Saga of the Wardens
by Naryfiel Lilith
Summary: Four young adults with little in common, suddenly thrown into a desperate fight against an enemy thought lost to the ages, find themselves charged with the fate of Thedas. Witness their struggles as they attempt to pick up broken pieces, forge alliances, and create the miracle that shakes the age. Everything begins with Origins. (Multi-Warden Novelization of Origins)
1. Chapter 0) Prologue

**Prologue: Musings**

_Thedas - Year 9:29_

* * *

The old woman stretches as she lingers in the doorway, grimacing at the stiffness of her joints and skin. Glancing to make sure her daughter still sleeps in the hut hidden deep in the wild forest, she sheds away the old hag guise. She's grown horribly bored of it and wonders if she will be able to change soon. But what to change to? An older guise like what she wears now or something _younger_...

Her now smooth hands brush against some papers hidden near the door, capturing her attention. Treaties from ages gone by, protected by her when their seals disappeared. She wonders if any even remember that they had ever existed. She wonders if they just disappeared from memory, as all things of the past do...

Frowning, she gathers magic into her palm, swirls it into a sphere, a window to the past so that she never forgets as others do.

_(Hooded mages laughing in delight as their long and tedious ritual finally took hold, stepping into the Fade with bloody hands and feet into the hidden city. Laughter turned to tortured screams as they are twisted into blackened, tainted monsters, set loose again in the realm of the living to corrupt and destroy everything.)_

She spins the image in the mage, rolling her eyes at the futile battles that swirled and disappeared into the magic sphere. She has no care for such things. Losses are never forgotten, or forgiven. She stops, however, when she sees a certain image blooming. One battle that did not end in futility. The battle that utterly changed the course of history.

_(They appeared out of nowhere. Mages, rogues, warriors. Dwarves, elves, humans. None of them carrying of lineage or past as they came from the very skies, borne by beautifully fierce griffons, to give Thedas the miracle it desperately longed for. Those who took in shadows to battle shadows and guard the light. Those who stood at the boundary of both. The Grey Wardens.)_

She watches for a time, smiling softly at their courage, before spinning the image again through history. Her smile disappears as she sees the same thing again and again and again. War, peace, and revolution. Life's endless waltz.

_(The woman shrouded in myth, who toppled the greatest empire, burning at the stake. The ancient Inquistion signing the Nevarran Accord, allowing the formation of the Chantry, Templars, Seekers, and Circle. The second homeland of the Elves conquered despite their long struggles, forced into slavery that is not slavery or to wander without a home. The heroic elf who took command of the Wardens to slaughter the darkspawn into hiding, causing them to slip into obscurity. The long struggle with the horned Qunari in the northern lands. The triumphant cheer of battered, broken, but stubborn and prideful rebels as they finally topple their sun-marked oppressors.)_

She stops the image suddenly at a more recent event, one she had not seen last she looked. She knows the warrior dressed in the armor of long gone assassins, a gift from the dragon-blooded king who made a promise to her long ago. The scamp of a thief who became the respected Commander of the Grey in this land of strength, freedom, and courage.

_(He races for something. Faster and faster, hoping he isn't too late. But he slows upon coming to the cliff, face falling at the corpses scattered there. Many were strangers, young soldiers who hadn't known what attacked them. Others, however, were twisted monsters he knew better than he would like. He examines each of the corpses, disposes of those who thought to trick him into lowering his guard, and looks out over the darkening horizon. He closes his eyes as he realizes what that darkness means.)_

So does she. "It is time."

_(A young mage with fiery curls woken in the middle of the night by templars, terrified out of her mind, but stubbornly showing only confidence. A young mage with fiery curls wielding swords and spells in a style long thought lost to the conquests of old gods.)_

"The dragons have returned from their ancient slumber."

_(A young hunter of the fallen kingdom studying the histories and practices of his people, hoping to protect his people from the ravages of the depraved. A younger hunter of the fallen kingdom slipping out of the shadows to strike one final, sacrificial blow.)_

"The shadows have risen from their hellish crypts."

_(A young elf of the city gritting his teeth as he labors for a handful of coins, tricking the surrounding strangers that he is meek and weak. A young elf of the city rallying tired soldiers with a single war cry as they liberate a besieged capital.)_

"The sparks of war have bloomed to foster bloodshed and betrayal."

_(A young noble chatting with his twin sister with a false smile, both watching the assassin that tries to make his way to their precious king. A young noble defending his new king's honor against the old hero of the River Dane.)_

"All points meet at the origin."

_(The twin sister with poisoned arrows and keen sight standing before a crowd of angry and betrayed lords. The new king, untried yet proud, encouraging both noble and commoner alike with unpracticed words. The wild apostate who holds a hidden heart and more secret motive as she begs her love to go through a ritual. The repentant singer who spins tales of grandeur of religion and history to bewitch and entertain. The alien general who finds himself trusting those he should consider nothing but trash. The undead healer stands tall as she advises and listens to the broken leaders who shoulder the world's burden. The feathered assassin protects his newfound friendships from those of his past who can never understand freedom. The fallen dwarf learning that he still has a modicum of pride and dignity left as he avenges his stoned house. The golem smiling at her old memories as she rallies her fellow immortal soldiers to go to war as they did in the past.)_

"Thedas's end has begun."

* * *

Author's notes: Well, here we go again. I've one set of novelizations up; why NOT go with a second? *grumblegrumble* Okay, basics warnings. Four Wardens (human mage, human noble, city elf, dalish elf). No dwarf Wardens as I loathe Orzammar more than I like the origins. However, they will still appear in the story. Not using dog (as I noticed a bad habit of forgetting he existed), but a fifth OC to fill in the gap, twin to human noble Warden (biased for that origin as it was the first I'd ever beat the game with). Planned romances: Female!CouslandxAlistair (yes, I know, common as hell. I'm too attached to change it), MaharielxMorrigan, Male!CouslandxAmell, and TabrisxLeliana. First two are set in stone, it'll take some very good arguments to make me change the third at this point, but that last one is still iffy and might change depending on how the story progresses. Um… oh, right. The reason I'm even doing this, aside from challenge factors. I'm going to be playing with the canon a little more here. I'm not changing key events, of course, but… *shrug* basically, there will be a couple of things I wish had happened in game here, instead of the straighter novelization I'm doing in the Tales' Series.

With all that said… welcome to the Saga?


	2. Chapter 1) Origin of Layla Amell

**Chapter 1) Origin of the Arcane Warrior, Hero of the Mages - Misplaced Trusts**

_Layla Amell POV_

* * *

"_Welcome to the Circle. The Power to command the Forces of Magic is yours, for a Price." These are the words all mages hear, even though it is never really said. Mages are people who have the ability to bend the perceptions of reality. Long ago, there was an empire who controlled the world, but did so through vile blood magic that brought nothing but ruin. Now, though, mages are placed into the Circle to protect us from the world and the world from us._

_My fellows have different reactions to this. Some believe they'd somehow sinned, punished for something they did before being born. Others are angry over being forced into a prison due to something given to them by the Maker. Still others believe that it is the non-mages who have sinned and wish to punish them for it. I… do not have an opinion, truly, save that the Maker made me a mage for a reason and that He is just in His decisions, as always._

_My greatest dream is for there to be peace between mages and non-mages, though. Would that not be lovely? A time where mages can stay with their families and not have to worry about being killed? A time where people thank us instead of throwing insults? A time where mages can appreciate the beauty that cannot come from magic, but from things only non-mages can do? Yes, I do believe it would be lovely. Surely, one day, it shall happen. …Right?_

* * *

I opened my eyes and shuddered at the twisted landscape before me. Though I was a mage, the Fade had never been a place of comfort to me. The reason why I was here, though, made it even worse. I was here for my Harrowing, my trial by fire. If I failed, I would die. If I succeeded, I would be accepted as an enchanter. All I had to do was resist temptation. I could do that. I hoped. Thankfully, Anders and Neria had already gone and given Jowan and me hints about the Harrowing. I would have been far more confused otherwise. Though I wished they had warned us about the templars appearing in the middle of the night and forcing you to be quiet. It had taken everything I had to pretend I was not afraid.

"So, someone else thrown to the wolves, as fresh and unprepared as ever," a deep voice suddenly whispered. "It isn't right that the templars do this, you know? Not to you or me or anyone."

I hunted around for the source of the voice. "Excuse me," I called politely. "But where are you, ser?"

"Right in front of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look _down_."

I did so and noticed the mouse sitting at my feet. "Oh, I am sorry, Ser Mouse."

"It's always the same," Ser Mouse sighed. "But it's okay. Not your fault. You're in the same boat I was, yes?" There was a flash of light and suddenly a man not much older than me stood in Ser Mouse's place. "Welcome to the Fade, young apprentice."

"I thank you." Did he say 'the same boat'? Well, that would mean… "So, you took the Harrowing too?" Since he was here when I was, though, he had likely… well, he had likely not survived it and was merely a spirit waiting to move on.

"Yes, I think so." He pressed a hand to his head, as if it hurt. "It's fuzzy, the time before. They woke me in the night and dragged me to the Chamber and then…" He glared at the empty air. "They kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed and don't want something getting out. That's what they did to me. I have no body to reclaim. Just another lost apprentice, wandering about this twisted place."

"You are wearing the robes of a senior enchanter, though," I pointed out. Realizing that could be taken as rude, I gasped. "Oh, I am so sorry! That was… um…"

"No, it's fine. I… never noticed." He glanced down and grimaced. "I… must've changed my robes during my trial. I'm sorry. As I mentioned, it's a blur."

"It is no trouble." The Fade did bend to the will of mages. Changing clothes seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Regardless, you don't have much time before you end up like me."

"Then do you know what I must do? I know there are demons here, but I am confused otherwise."

"There's something here, contained just for you." He glanced around before stepping closer. "You have to face the demon and resist it. _That_ is your way out. Well, or your opponent's, but that's what the templars are for." He smiled sardonically. "That's what the Harrowing is. It's a test for you, and a tease for the Fade's creatures."

"So, I must kill a demon." I frowned at that, though. Yes, Neria had mentioned fighting demons, but surely it was more difficult than that. This was the final test, after all.

"One with power and cunning, yes. You will have to be wary."

"Do you know where it is?"

"I… do. But first, I sense others here. Perhaps you can talk to these Spirits and see if they can help?"

"I see." I curtseyed to him. "I thank you, Ser Mouse."

"You are… strange." His smile was warm. "If I may, I would like to accompany you. My chance was long ago, but you… you still have yours."

"My thanks!" I was always up for a new friend, after all.

"Follow me, then." Smiling slightly, Ser Mouse carefully led me past an area ringed with fire, taking my hand when he thought I was veering too close. "We'll avoid there for now," he explained, tugging me close. "That's where the demon is and you'll want to be as prepared as possible."

"If you say so, Ser Mouse," I replied, gripping his hand tightly. A sight caught my eye, though. It was a spirit who stood near a glowing weapons' rack. "Who is that?"

"A spirit who never seems quite equal to his name. He's one of the ones I sensed earlier, it seems."

"Might I talk to him?"

"If you are careful. I will not be able to save you if he attacks, though."

"Then I suppose I had best make sure it does not come to a fight." I smiled at Ser Mouse. "I think I shall be fine, though."

"Good luck." He stayed behind as I approached the spirit. "Hello," I said to it. "My name is Layla."

"Ah, another mortal thrown into the flames to either burn into dust or rise from the ashes, I see," the spirit greeted, turning to face me. "I am Valor." I noted he took the appearance of a templar wearing a face-covering helmet and wondered if that was the form he chose or the form my mind chose to perceive. "You mortals have chosen quite the cowardly test."

"Is that so?" That was not something I expected to hear.

"Why yes. Better you were pitted against each other to prove your mettle than to be sent unarmed against demons. Both loser and victor could pass in those circumstances."

"But that would not prove our ability to stand against the demons' cunning ways, would it?"

"The demons are not as cunning as you humans strive so much to believe, but that is not your fault. The choice lies, of course, with those who sent you here."

"That is… true." I could see the reason in his words. I had yet to meet a dangerous demon, after all.

"Regardless, that you are here means you have not yet defeated your hunter. I wish you a glorious battle to come."

"I thank you for it." I glanced to the forge and the weapons on the rack. "Did you make these, though?"

"Yes, I willed them into being." He gentled touched the forge and I imagined he was smiling. "I understand that in your world, mages are the only ones who can forge reality. Those who cannot must lead such hollow, empty lives."

"Actually, they seem quite happy with their ability to create things with their own two hands and hard work," I corrected sourly. Then, of course, I realized how rude I was being. "Begging your pardon, of course, Ser Valor."

"You keep an insolent tongue in your head, but I can see great will behind it." He looked up to study me. "Yes, great will indeed. More than enough to combat the demon, I dare say. You… will need it."

"Ser Valor?"

"Time does not flow the same here as it does in your world. Thus, we Spirits can see things that are… invisible to the mortals, or even the mages." He stepped towards me, looking me right in the eyes. They glowed unnervingly. "I see a glorious battle in your future, matched by an even more glorious destiny. I shall wish, however, you do not have such a _glorious_ funeral." He reached out and patted my shoulder. "Strengthen yourself, young warrior, to survive your trials to come. This Harrowing of yours… it will not be the worse that you face."

"That is confusing, Ser Valor. I am a mage, who shall remain in the Tower."

"Then perhaps, child, that Tower is not going to stay." …Pardon? "I must go. Another Spirit, Justice, wanders near and I would confer with him. Prove your worth to those who demand it. I know you shall do so." Before I could say anything more, he stepped away, vanishing into the strange air of the Fade.

"That was odd."

"I told you. He does not seem equal to his name," Ser Mouse whispered in my ear. He laughed when I yelped. "My apologies. I couldn't resist."

"You must have been quite the prankster," I muttered quietly. "Are there any other spirits?"

"Well, yes. One more. A Sloth Demon."

I knew my studies. Sloth demons were perhaps even more powerful than Pride Demons, but were limited by their innate laziness, and the laziness they inspired in their victims. "May I talk to him?"

"I won't be able to protect you."

"That is all right. I think I will be fine." So long as I did not lose my sense of purpose, I should be able to resist the Sloth Demon. That, at least, was what my studies said. I had faith in my teachers. After all, they _were_ Irving and Wynne.

"If you say so." Ser Mouse sighed. "This is so not a good idea."

Ignoring his negativity, I approached the creature in the distance that I assumed was the Sloth Demon. It had taken the form of an _extremely_ odd bear, with bone protruding from its back and face and strange crimson and pink fur. "Hello there," I greeted politely. It stirred slightly, as if asleep. "I hope I am not bothering you."

"So, you are the mortal being hunted this time?" it asked sleepily. He lazily opened one eye to study me. "I see. What of this small one? Shall he be a snack for me?"

"I would say not!" I yelped as Ser Mouse squeaked and ducked behind me.

"I don't like this," he whispered quickly. "We should go."

"Please, hold on a moment."

"It doesn't matter," the Sloth Demon sighed, slowly pushing himself up. "The demon will get you eventually, and perhaps there will be scraps left."

"I do not suppose you would help me," I asked softly. It would not do to show fear to a demon. I remembered the lessons well. Fear was one way a demon could get inside your head. Mages could _never_ fear.

"Help you?" He laughed. "_Nothing_ can help you, little mage." He yawned loudly. "Begone. Surely you have better things to do that bother me. I tire of you already, mortal."

"Then perhaps you should just give me advice or a lesson? Perhaps you can show me how to change my form?" Something of that nature _would_ be of great use.

"That is a magic I cannot teach you. You do not know the old arts, and are too attached to your human form." He stared at Ser Mouse, though. "That one, though… he could learn, I suppose. He is not so attached."

"Oh, I don't think I'd make a good bear," Ser Mouse immediately dismissed. "I mean; how would I hide?"

"There are times when you cannot hide, yes?" I asked hesitantly. "Perhaps it will be useful to learn for the times you cannot get away."

"I… suppose." He shook slightly. "I have seen more of this place than you can imagine. More of its dangers. But perhaps you are right. I'll try, at least."

"That's nice," the Sloth demon sighed. "But teaching is _so_ exhausting." He glanced at me. "Ah, but perhaps your friend can provide me with some entertainment."

"What would you like me to do?" I asked, keeping my tone even.

"Answer three riddles correctly, and I shall teach the small one. Fail, and I shall eat you both."

"Then let us begin."

"Truly?" He sounded surprised. "Ah, this gets more and more promising." He chuckled softly. "My first riddle is this. I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What am I?"

Ah, it was one of these sorts of riddles. Jowan _loved_ them. So, let me think this through. You cannot have sea without water, unless you were looking at a picture. But it would have to be a picture that showed seas, coasts, towns, _and_ mountains. There was no singular place with all those things, though, so you would have to look at a bigger picture, much like a map. …Oh! "You are a map."

"You are correct." He did not sound happy. "Let's move on. The second riddle: I am rarely touched, but often held. If you have wit, you'll use me well. What am I?"

There was no doubt about this one. After all, I had grown up with Anders and Anders, being clever and witty, was often told to hold his tongue. "You are a tongue."

"Yes, and quite the clever one, you are. Fair enough. Once more." This would be the final. "Often will I spin a tale, never will I charge a fee. I'll amuse you an entire eve, but, alas, you won't remember me. What am I?"

So, something that spins a tale, but does not charge for it. That would be like someone telling bedtime stories to a child. Yet those sorts of people would not entertain you an entire night. Someone who would likely would not be someone you forgot. Wait, no, I should not focus on a _person_. All of the other answers had been objects. So, what was something a person did through the night, but often forgot when morning came? …Well, Neria had been complaining about not remembering her dreams lately. "Are you a dream?"

"You are correct," he huffed. "Rather apropos here in the Fade, no?" He sighed. "You have won my challenge and proven yourself an amusing distraction. So, I shall teach you my form, small one. Now, listen carefully." He lumbered forward and whispered something into Ser Mouse's ear.

It took a couple of tries, but soon, Ser Mouse had taken the form of a bear. "Like this?" he asked. "Am I one? It feels… heavy."

"Close enough." The Sloth Demon sprawled back onto the ground. "Go now and defeat your demon, little mortal. I grow weary of you. Still, perhaps I shall volunteer for the next mage encounter. You _did_ prove entertaining, if only for a mortal."

"I thank you again," I murmured, curtseying to him. It was best to be polite. If I got out of here, though, I would do my best to warn Irving about this.

"So, do you think you are ready for the demon?" Ser Mouse asked me. His voice was far more suitable for the bear form he wore.

"Well, I am not sure I did really anything," I sighed. "But I have faith in my abilities. I worked hard for them, after all." Though not even Wynne had been able to help me move past that incident. I _still_ could not cast the upper level spells. "I am also not just a simple healer. I learned offensive magic first!"

"I think you'll be fine. Come on!" He raced ahead. "Let's go!"

Laughing, I followed him to the area ringed with fire, the place where I would have to face a demon. As soon as Ser Mouse and I entered it, the air hissed and the ground glowed red. A Rage Demon dragged itself out of the ground, cackling all the while. "And so it comes to me at last!" it triumphantly cried. "Soon, I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature! You shall be _mine_, in body and soul!"

"I would rather not," I replied softly. "Would you instead consider retreating? There _are_ two of us."

"Amusing. Have you not told it of our… arrangement, Mouse?" Pardon?

"We don't have an arrangement," Ser Mouse snapped. "Not anymore, at least. This one is strong and capable. I won't let you snuff her out!"

"After all those lovely meals we shared, now the mouse changes the rules?"

"I'm no longer _just_ a mouse! I don't need to bargain with you."

"We shall see, as I feast upon your pet's bones!"

"I will not allow it!" he roared, leaping forward and biting the Rage Demon. I used the time Ser Mouse bought me to put some distance between the demon and me. Rage demons were weak in power, but their physical strikes could spell disaster for many mages. Few of us were _physically_ strong, after all.

"Feeble minded…!" The Rage Demon snapped, throwing a fireball at Ser Mouse to get him off. "Wait your turn!" It advanced to where I had run. "The _mage_ is mine!"

But I knew the chief weakness of Rage Demons. They were completely unable to handle chilling out. "Here me now, whispers of ice," I murmured, calling the magic to my hand. "Listen to my call and obey my thoughts." The Rage Demon loomed over me. "Cone of Cold, if you please." I waved my hand in front of me, helping the magic know where to go. Icicles leapt from the ground in front of me to impale the Rage Demon as he tried to attack.

"What… what is this?" it roared. It flailed about, trying to rid itself of the ice. "You have _ice_!? This wasn't supposed to… I was told that you were…!"

"Farewell." I closed my eyes and whispered, "Winter's Grasp." Five pieces of ice formed in the air and converged onto the Rage Demon. It screeched as they dug into him, all the way to its core. As soon as it hit that, though, it was over. Just as humans would die if hit in the heart, spirits would fade if hit in their core. I watched as it melted back into the ground. Something about everything here was… unsettling.

"You did it!" Ser Mouse breathed, beaming at me as soon as he transformed back into his human self. "You actually did it!"

"That seemed too easy, though," I could not help but murmur.

"That is because you are a true mage, one of the few!"

"What of the ones before me?"

"I led them only after I sensed the templars cutting their lives. It seemed… more merciful." He looked away. "I regret my part, but you have shown me that there is hope! You can be so much more than you are!"

"Do you truly think so?"

"I know so. You defeated a demon, completed your test. With just a bit of time, you shall become a master enchanter, one without compare!"

I felt myself flush and smile. I'd always enjoyed being praised and… and… oh. Oh, no. "Ser Mouse?"

"Yes, my archmage?"

"That rage demon was not my true test, was it?"

"What? What are you talking about?" He sounded startled. Did I offend him? "Of course it was! What else here could possibly harm someone as powerful as you?"

"I…" My voice was soft. "I would think _pride_, Ser Mouse."

"…You are truly a smart one." He started laughing, his voice growing deeper and deeper. "Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… _pride_." Ser Mouse's form changed shape again, this time to a Pride Demon, strongest of the demons.

"You lied to me?"

"It was quite fun, I assure you." He reached out and caressed my cheek. "Careful in the future, though. True tests never end."

He floated away as my vision blurred. What was this? Did I fail? No, I did not think so? So, was this… waking up…? Oh, Maker, I hoped so. I did not want to die, and everything was… blurry and shaky and...

* * *

Someone was shaking me. "Hey, are you all right?" There was more shaking. "Say something! Please…" Wait, I knew this voice.

"J-Jowan…?" I slurred, slowly stirring awake. I recognized the person sitting on my bed, even if he was a blurred mess of patches at the moment. "Jowan, what are…?"

"Easy, just try to relax." I could tell he was smiling. "Blink a few times. Come on, healer, you know the drill." I giggled and pushed myself up as my vision cleared to smile at Jowan. He was more of what I imagined when I thought of a mouse, what with his black hair and dark brown eyes. Of course, the thought of mice made me think of Mouse, the Pride Demon, and that just blackened my mood. "I'm so glad you're all right. You were carried in this morning. Most of us didn't even know you'd been gone."

"They were incredibly silent," I murmured, reassuring him. "They came suddenly in the middle of the night and told me not to make a noise. It was quite terrifying. I think I managed to hide it, though."

"Good. You know the 'rules'. Never show fear to a templar." He sighed. "I've heard about apprentices who never come back. Was it really that dangerous?"

"Well, it was aptly named." I had to be cautious about answering. Talking about the Harrowing was taboo to those who had not yet gone through. However, Jowan was one of my dearest friends, one of my big brothers even. Besides, Neria and Anders had given _us_ little hints about what was to come after they'd passed. I was _definitely_ going to do the same for Jowan. "You know how Anders said that it involved the Fade, and Neria mentioned demons?"

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes, the demons will pull a trick to make you kill other demons."

"Knowing me, I won't get a demon so crafty, but that's good to know." He sighed heavily. "Well, now you get to move and I'm now the last one stuck here in the apprentice quarters."

"Jowan, I know that they will call you soon," I reassured him with a smile.

"I know; I know. It's just that I've been here the longest. Sometimes, it feels like they just don't want to test me."

"You know that is not true. They test _everyone_."

"The Tranquil aren't." I froze at the mention of the Tranquil. Former mages who had their connection to the Fade severed, they were completely without emotions. I went out of my way to avoid talking to them. They were like walking corpses. I would _never_ see something more frightening than them.

"They will not kill you, Jowan."

"I hope so." He forced a smile. "Listen to me, wasting your time. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving when you woke up, not bother you with my problems."

"We are friends, Jowan. You would never bother me."

The doors to the apprentice dorms suddenly burst open, startling some of the gossiping pairs nearby. "Hey there, girl!" a cheerful voice cheered. Its owner appeared two seconds later with an equally cheerful smile. Wearing the gold-hemmed robes that marked her as an enchanter, Neria was even happier than normal. "All right! That's three of us passing. Jowan, you need to step up your game. Anders and me have already gone through the Harrowing and now little Layla has!"

"I am not little," I grumbled, pouting. Neria and I were the same height, except that she was a little short even by elf standards, so I was constantly teased.

"Yeah, yeah." She tossed her braid over her shoulder. I was pleased to see it back to its normal brown, seeing as an experiment just yesterday had turned it a disgusting lime-green! It had completely clashed with her green robes. "Whatever. Jowan? Leave."

"What, not even 'please'?" Jowan complained.

"Well, if you _want_ to see Layla naked…"

"I'm gone!" Jowan yelped, bolting out of the dorms.

I could not help but laugh at his escape. "That was mean," I scolded half-heartedly.

"Yeah, but it _is_ true," Neria replied with a grin. She reached for my robes and tugged them off. "Come now!"

"What? Wait, Neria, I am _perfectly_ capable of dressing myself!" I ducked away and over to the closet I shared with two other apprentices. "Why am I changing, though?"

"Your robes smell of demons." Neria had sensitivity to demons that left many people baffled, and she often described them as 'scents'. "Get in a fight with a pride demon? That's the strongest."

"I would not call it a 'fight'," I muttered as I pulled a fresh robe over my head. Neria immediately appeared to help straighten it out. "It was my test, though."

"You got a _pride_ demon? Wow, Layla, you've got some power behind you!" She laughed again and shoved me at one of the vanities.

I sighed as she rummaged about the drawers. "I would rather my hair not be tied up ridiculously."

"Of course not. Your hair looks _best_ when it's down, after all. Aha!" She triumphantly brandished a brush and set about brushing my hair for me. "Oh, I wish I had your hair. All red and gold curls. They go great with your eyes, you know. So jealous."

I knew she was also jealous that my eyes were still brown. Her first sign of magic had been changing _her_ originally brown eyes to pale lavender, and that was something that no one ever seemed to be able to reverse. However, she would never say so, and I would never bring it up. "You can have it," I joked to her. "It is always frizzing and never obeys me. There is also the fact that I can never hide in a crowd. I would kill to have your sleek black hair and be able to hide whenever a teacher is hunting around for the latest prankster."

"Hey, I've been a good girl recently. Have to set an example for the youngsters. Anders, the cad, has provided the _bad_ example. Honestly, he's on _how_ many escape attempts?" She sighed. "It's pointless. We're always caught and we're always thrown back here. There's no escape from the templars, the bastards." As always, I kept silent as she ranted about the templars. Many of my fellows hated them. I did not, though I was not so deluded as to ignore that they could be dangerous. But, it was a templar who saved my life when my father tried to strangle me for being yet another mage child and, for that reason, I could understand just why they were considered necessary. If only they could all be like Ser Maurevar, who had saved me. It was a shame I would never be able to thank him, though. He died shortly after I had been sent here to Fereldan from Kirkwall. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No," I answered honestly.

She sighed. "Ugh, at least some of the other mages are gone."

"Neria, how can you say that? Are they not going to be in danger?"

"_You_ haven't had to deal with Uldred. He's been more intractable than usual and I _swear_ he hasn't bathed in weeks. That rank smell…"

All right, it was time for a new subject. …Oh, there was that thing Jowan mentioned. "Hey, Neria?"

"Yeah?"

"Who carried me back?"

She hesitated in answering. "…Cullen."

"…Oh." His name alone was enough to get me to flush.

"…Layla, getting involved with a templar is…"

"I know." No matter what my heart tried to say, I knew what I had to do. "I know. I will not act on it. I just…"

"Of course. You can't help who you fall in love with. Just be careful." She kissed the top of my head as she finished brushing. "Falling in love will give the templars something else to use against you."

It would also give you something to lose. Mages never talked about true romance for that reason. "I know, Neria."

"All right." She suddenly giggled and hugged me. "Let's do away with the sadness! After all, you _passed_ your Harrowing, and it was the quickest and cleanest ever seen! I'll get some booze from the table later to celebrate!"

"I suppose so. Do I go see Irving now?"

"Yep. You know the way. I'll see you later!"

* * *

In truth, I should have gone straight to Irving, with no stops or distractions. However, I could not really help my feet slowing down as they approached a certain young templar with a beautiful smile. "H-hello," he greeted as I stopped next to him. "I… uh… I'm glad to see you… your Harrowing went smoothly."

"Hey, Cullen," I replied shyly, unable to keep the grin off my face. "I heard you were the one who carried me back. Thank you."

"Yes, they… they picked me as the templar who'd give the killing blow if… it's nothing personal, I swear!"

"…Thank you." I really should not be smiling so much. Most mages would not. However, I was not most mages. "It makes me feel safer, knowing that you were willing to do that for me."

"Um… you're… you're welcome." He smiled back and I knew I was flushing. He was too, though he was doing his best to hide. "I'm… uh… just glad you're all right."

"You are stuttering a lot. Are _you_ well?"

"W-what? I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should give you an examination? I am a Spirit Healer, after all."

N-no, I'm fine!" He was so red. "I'll… oh, I need to report to training. Um… bye!" He raced off, as fast as he could in the heavy armor.

I took a moment to compose myself as I watched him disappear around the corner. Honestly, of all the people to fall hopelessly in love with, it had to be a templar. Cullen was kind, of course, but such a relationship just could _not_ happen. Yet, for the life of me, I could not get these feelings to go _away_! Perhaps it was time for me to speak to someone other than Neria about this. Surely some of the older mages had knowledge about things like…

"Absolutely not!" Started, I realized that I had automatically started walking while thinking and I was close to Irving's office. Instead of going in, though, I pressed myself against the wall outside the door as I heard the Knight-Commander rant. It was _never_ a good idea to be in sight of an angry templar. "Many have already gone to Ostagar. Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages. We've committed enough of our own to the war effort!"

"Your own?" I heard Irving retort dryly. "Since when have you felt such a kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Are you so afraid to let we mages out from Chantry supervision, where we can actually use our Maker-given powers for the benefit of all?"

"How dare you suggest-?!"

"Gentlemen, please." I did not know that voice. It was low, commanding, and polite. "Irving, forgive me, but I believe we have a visitor outside your door."

Oh, how did he know I was here? "Um…" I squeaked, peering inside. "I can come back later, Irving, if need be."

"No, come in, child!" Irving greeted me with enthusiasm, beaming proudly. I knew I was smiling back. Irving had been one of my teachers, and I took great pride in being his star pupil. I worked hard for it. "Welcome, newest daughter to the Circle." I also looked up to Irving as a father. Wynne, my other teacher, had been my mother while here in the Circle. I was always, always so happy to hear the word 'daughter' from them.

"This is…?" I finally had a face to the unknown voice, and he was unlike any I had ever seen. He was… commanding, more so than even the Knight-Commander. He was in some sort of odd armor, certainly not something I had seen in a book. His was darker skinned, with an almost fatherly light in his brown eyes. Who was he?

"Yes, this is she." Irving came and put a hand on my shoulder.

"I see."

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy," the Knight-Commander grumbled. He did not look happy, so I instinctively tried to hide myself behind Irving. "We'll discuss this later."

"Of course," Irving sighed. As the Knight-Commander stomped of, he merely shook his head. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Layla, this is Duncan, the Commander of the Grey Wardens." I had read about the Wardens. They were an old organization, one that was considered a relic of ancient times.

"It is an honor to meet your acquaintance," I replied, curtseying. "What brings you to the tower?"

"The same thing that has dragged many mages out, dear. War. He's come recruiting more mages."

"With the darkspawn invading, we'll need all the help we can get," Commander Duncan confirmed. "The magic of the Circle is one of the greatest assets we have."

"The darkspawn are an old enemy, yes?" I asked hesitantly. "I read about them."

"Yes, they are twisted monsters that dwell underground. They've formed into a horde in the Wilds to the South and threaten to invade. If they are not stopped, we will likely face another Blight."

"I… I see…"

"Duncan, please, this is to be a happy day for her," Irving gently scolded, smiling. "Save the talks of Blights later, my friend, please. She'll make herself sick from worry again."

"We live in troubled times."

"Is that not more reason to seize moments of levity? Perhaps I should scold you as I do the apprentices, Duncan? Do you still have that dagger you stole?"

"Of course. It saved my life." He stole a dagger? "It also helped serve as proof to oust the conspiracy."

"Yes, but let it also serve as a reminder that someone else seized a moment during a troubled time." Commander Duncan hid a smile behind his hand as Irving turned to address me directly. "The Harrowing is behind you, and your phylactery has been sent. As of this moment, you are an official mage within the Circle. I know I need not remind you of your duties."

"Of course, Irving," I answered, still curious about what they had been talking about. "Thank you."

"In your rooms, there are your new robes and the ring that marks you as a mage. There is also a congratulations gift." He got me a gift? I would have to work extra hard to make them proud, then! "Wear them proudly. You have earned them."

"I will."

"Now, the day is yours. Rest, drink, and be merry. Just… try not to do what Anders did, would you?"

"Of course not!" I still had no idea how Anders got all those barrels of mead anyway, much less how he rigged them to spill all over the templar quarters.

"Very well. Off with you, dear."

"Yes, sir." I smiled, curtseyed to Commander Duncan in farewell, and raced off.

I did it!

* * *

After leaving Irving, I immediately rushed to my new rooms to change into my new robes. Someone, no doubt Wynne, had arranged that my new robes be a beautiful blue, with the elaborate gold hem showing that they were not the robes of an apprentice, but of a tried and proven mage. The ring was, of course, fitted for my hand, gold with the insignia of the Circle engraved on the outside. The necklace, however, caught my attention. It had a simple chain, but the pendant itself was odd. It was a gold-rimmed black circle with a crimson and white star-like shape bursting out of it. It was accompanied by a note: _'This was a gift from my own teacher and I pass it to you. This amulet was forged during the height of the ancient Imperium's power, designed to help a mage tap into the power of spells. I entrust it to you, as I know you will not abuse your magic. –Irving'_.

I had just put on the amulet when someone knocked on my door. "Layla, it's me," Jowan hissed through the door. "You in there?"

"Yes, Jowan," I answered, getting up from my vanity to open the door. "Is something the matter?"

"Do you mind if we head somewhere else? I don't feel safe talking here."

"Jowan, we're in my room."

"Please?"

"I suppose, then." He was acting weird, and my confusion only increased as he led me to the Chantry Hall situated on the floor here. "Jowan, I have told you. The Maker does not care if you flub a prayer. He is kind and forgiving."

"That's not it." He took my hand and dragged me to one of the alcoves. One of the Chantry Sisters was standing there. I recognized her, though I did not know her name. She was often here when I came in to pray. "Okay, it should be safe here."

I glanced at the Sister, who smiled back, before turning back to Jowan. "Jowan, what is going on?"

"Well, a few months ago, I told you all that I… well, that I'd met a girl."

"Yes, I remember that." Anders had nearly laughed himself silly before giving Jowan all sorts of 'advice'. Neria had chimed in every once in a while. The two were ridiculous sometimes.

"Well, this is Lily."

"…I had thought Chantry Sisters had taken a vow of chastity, as they were symbolically married to the Maker."

"Yes, that is why we were keeping it secret," Lily replied softly. She was still smiling. "We would both be in quite a bit of trouble. But, well…"

You could not choose who you fell in love with. I knew that quite well. "Well, do not fret. No one will find out from me."

"Thank you," Jowan whispered, smiling. "I knew you'd stand by me."

"Of course, Jowan. Are we not friends? Surely you would not have been so worried to tell me."

"No, but it _is_ related." Was it? "There's something else, though."

"What is it?"

"I… remember how worried I was this morning? About the Harrowing?" I nodded in reply. "Well, I know why now. They're… they're going to make me Tranquil." The world froze for a second. I was completely unable to comprehend it. "They're planning on taking everything from me. My dreams, hopes, fears. My friendships, my love. All gone. I'll just be a husk, like Owain and the others."

"It's okay, love," Lily whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"How… do you know about this?" I squeaked. It was still too hard to process.

"I was delivering documents to Greagoir and saw it on his table. It had authorized the Rite. Irving had signed it."

No. No, I _refused_ to believe that. "Why would…?"

"I'm under suspicion for being a blood mage," Jowan muttered. Well, that was preposterous. Jowan would never be that stupid. "You know how I've been sneaking around, lately. I'd been seeing Lily, but…"

"Jowan, it will be okay."

"No, they're going to destroy me, and put everyone I care about through the pain of seeing me like that!" He was shaking now. Lily quickly hugged him to help calm him down. "I… I need to escape. I need to destroy my phylactery and run." He looked pleadingly at me. "Please, you have to help me."

My automatic answer was to say 'yes'. After all, Jowan was my brother. But I also knew what he was asking. He was asking me to betray the Circle for him, the Circle which had ultimately _saved_ my life. Betraying the Circle would also mean betraying Irving. No matter what I chose, I would be disappointing someone I loved very, very much. I could not even stand the thought.

"Jowan, can you give me a few minutes to wrap my head around everything?" I whispered shakily. "My head is a mess, and you… you know what happened the last time I tried…" That incident flickered in my head. Casting a spells and making decisions with clouded thoughts was never a good idea. I knew that first hand.

"I think all of us need to take a breather anyway," Lily laughed as Jowan nodded. "I'll take care of him."

"You have my thanks. I will be back shortly." I could promise nothing more.

* * *

My intention had been to wander to my room or to find Neria and try to calm down. However, Neria was in the middle of teaching a lesson and, when I went to the second floor to go to my new room, my feet automatically took me to the one person I would always, always feel safe around.

"Child, what brings you here?" Irving asked me warmly as I stumbled in. He was alone, working at his desk. "Did you wish to speak with Duncan more?"

"Perhaps later, Irving," I whispered. I could not bring my gaze from the floor.

"I see. I'm glad you met him. He is a most honorable and respected man. But what does bring you here?"

"I…" I started crying. "Irving, there's…"

There was the scrap of a chair and, not two seconds later, I was enveloped in a hug. "Easy. What happened? Did a templar try to attack you?" I shook my head. "Did you see the shadow monster under your bed again?" That startled a laugh out of me. I would have thought he had forgotten that old fear of mine. "Not that, is it? Dear, you may tell me."

"Jowan… he said…"

"Ah, so he is aware that the Rite has been called for him?" So, that _was_ true? "I suppose the young initiate he dallies with revealed it to him."

"You know about…?"

"One does not become First Enchanter by keeping your eyes and ears closed, Layla. Yes, I knew. I did not see a reason to bring it up, though. There was no harm in it."

"Then… then you know that Jowan and Lily plan to run?" Did I really just say that?

"It does not surprise me, knowing what I _do_ know." He stepped away and used his sleeve to brush away some of my tears. "My question becomes how do you know."

"They… they asked me for help. They want to destroy the phylactery."

"I never suspected they would have the gall to break into the repository." He sighed. "Reporting it now, however, would accomplish nothing more than what is already planned."

"J-Jowan cannot be a blood mage," I protested. "He is not that stupid."

"Greagoir gave me more evidence than simply sneaking about, child."

"But-!"

"Child, listen for a moment." I kept my mouth shut and worked on calming down. "If the Circle must punish one of their own, I would force the Chantry to do the same. By doing so, I can force them into lessening the punishment on Jowan until a conclusive investigation has occurred."

"Is not the Chantry fair, though?"

"The Chantry would Tranquil us all and call it a mercy." I shuddered at the mere thought. "If they are both caught in the act, however, I can force the Rite to be pushed aside. Greagoir cannot dismiss my suggestion of Jowan's sneaking around was for a rendezvous with there being proof right in front of him. If Jowan is innocent, the worst he will suffer is confinement."

Since he was, he would be fine. "But what of Lily?"

"So long as she does not fight, she will be fine. The Chantry is lenient on their own." He brushed away more of my tears. "It's not a perfect solution, I know, but it is the best that can be done."

"J-Jowan is going to hate me, is he not?"

"He will be angry, but this is a preferable fate to Tranquility or death. If he's innocent, you're saving him in the long run. He'll understand that."

"If you s-say so, Irving."

"I do. I'm sorry this had to happen on your day of triumph, but it will help you in the long run, I believe. Now, here, let me help you clean up. Neria would have my hide if she saw the tears."

That got a chuckle out of me, so I obeyed, washing my face of all traces of tears. I was still depressed, though. I was going to have to betray Jowan to save him. Surely, though, he'd forgive me. …Right?

* * *

Author's Note – Never realize how long an Origin is until you write it. Well, here's Layla, my Human Mage. Hopefully, she made a decent impression. For those curious, she's a 17-year-old Spirit Healer with a liking for ice spells. I'm sure you can guess what one of her future specializations will be, though, based on the title I gave her! Neria, by the way, is the default name of the Female!Elf!Mage Warden. I had to show her somehow, no? Ser Maurevar is Ser Maurevar Carver, the templar who helped Malcolm Hawke escape Kirkwall with Leandra, and is mentioned in DA2. Yay, connections. Speaking of connections, the dagger mentioned is in the Stolen Throne. Oh, and the amulet Layla got form Irving is the Amulet of the War Mage, a DLC item.

Next Chapter – We're continuing with the Mage Origin, still in Layla's POV.


	3. Chapter 2) Harrowed

**Chapter 2) Origin of the Arcane Warrior, Hero of the Mages – Harrowed**

_Layla POV_

* * *

"_Anders?" I called softly. "Anders, are you awake?"_

"_What? Layla?" I winced at how raspy his voice was. "Layla, what are you doing down here?"_

"_An amplification artifact was brought here for safe-keeping and I helped Irving carry it down. He is checking that there are no cracks, so, I took advantage to look for you." I crept closer to the cells and made myself smile. He looked a wreck as he pushed himself off the small pile of clothes that served as his bed. "I thought you might like to see someone."_

"_Oh, Maker, yes," he sighed, smiling back. "There's been no one but that cat down here. I'm going crazy. Well, crazier."_

"_I warned you about escaping so much." I reached through the bars and held back tears at how quickly he grabbed my hand. He was so desperate for warmth. "You are so lucky there is a law against making Harrowed mages Tranquil."_

_"No mention of Aeonar?"_

_"You are not capable of the stupidity that is required for those sorts of crimes."_

_"Thanks." He chuckled brokenly. "I hate it here. Getting dragged off and thrown in here, in a whole different country at that. The outside world is beautiful, Layla."_

"_That is what you have said before. But I am not certain it is so worth your life, Anders. I do not want to have to attend your funeral."_

"_I know. That's why I don't fight when they find me." He gave me a look. "You'll get in trouble if you stay much longer."_

"_Yes, I will." Even so, I hesitated to leave him. "I will try to come back down here, or see if I can get Neria or Jowan to."_

"_I'll be fine. I just got reminded that there's a cute little sister who will bawl if I'm not. Don't worry."_

"_I will always worry, Anders. You are my family. I will always love and worry over you, just as I would the others."_

"…_Thanks, Layla."_

* * *

After agreeing to Irving's proposed compromise, he did everything he could to help the plan without making it obvious while I went to Jowan and Lily and told them I would help, to their delight and my intense guilt. Due to Lily and Jowan having thought of everything prior, it was not long at all before we were descending into the basement.

"I'm still surprised how quickly you got the rod from Owain," Jowan commented. "I thought for sure it would take longer."

"I suppose having a reputation for not planning elaborate pranks comes in handy," I mumbled. This was so hard. I had to think over every single word I had to say. I wanted desperately to tell him everything, and the thought of lying to him was abhorrent. The four of us had grown up together. We would never, _ever_ lie to each other.

"What's so elaborate about using a rod to light someone's pants on fire?"

"Do not even _think_ about that!"

"Huh? …Oh, right, that… Layla, you know that incident wasn't your fault at all."

"…"

"Sorry, I put my foot in my mouth again. I'll shut up now."

"Are you two all right?" Lily asked, glancing back at us. She was leading the way, though I knew the way just as well.

"We are fine," I reassured, smiling slightly. I knew Jowan did not mean to remind me of that time.

"All right then." We turned a corner and came upon a door. "Here we are. The Victims' Door. It is built of two hundred and seventy-seven planks, one for each original templar."

"Lovely bit of triva, that," Jowan muttered.

"It's supposed to serve as a reminder to the dangers of magic."

"And what people are willing to do to stop it."

"How does it open?" I asked softly. I really just wanted this to all be done and over with.

"Ah, it's only through a templar and mage working together," Lily explained, smiling. "Those of the Chantry hold the password to prime the ward, while the mages use mana to release it."

"Then, let us begin."

"Of course. First, the password." She turned towards the door and reached out to it. "Sword of the Maker, Tears of the Fade."

There was the sound of a ward appearing. "Does it have to be a specific spell?"

"No."

"Then I will do my part." I closed my eyes to focus better. "Spirits of old, I plead that you lend me your strength." Calling on the magic of spirits, I loosed one of the most basic of spells, the Arcane Bolt. The door glowed as the spell hit before swinging open. "I believe that it worked."

"Yes." Lily beamed at me. I had to fight the urge to squirm. To think that there were people who could set others up like this on a regular basis! Such people must be truly sick in their minds! "We're halfway there."

"And the next door is in sight!" Jowan laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulder. Indeed, the second door was only a little down the hall. I knew this area well. There was a storeroom where many magical artifacts were stored. …The cells for solitary confinement were also in this area. "Second door, same as the first, hopefully. Come on!" He tugged me to the door, Lily skipping along behind us. "Okay, let's go with the rod."

I was a little hesitant to use it, since fire magic had been involved with that Incident, but this was important, and it was barely any magic on my part. So I focused my mana, only to realize something I had never experienced before. I could not access the mana. I felt a brief moment of panic, but then realized it was still there. It was merely hidden from me, like how ice hides the water of a lake.

"What's the matter?" Lily asked after a moment of me not melting the lock. "Is something wrong?"

"There's something up here," Jowan muttered. I saw him gesturing carefully, likely trying to turn the mana's flow. "I can't access my magic."

"What is…?"

"…The door is spelled," I answered, walking towards it so that I could better examine the markings carefully hidden in the wood and stone. "Yes, there are glyphs on it." I looked around the room, noting similar symbols on the walls. "Magic cannot be used here. The rod will not work."

"…I should have guessed." She sighed and leaned against the door. "I should've suspected something as soon as I learned it was non-magical keys. I don't know how we're getting in now."

I almost suggested that we turn back, but then I remembered just why I was doing this. If I did not help here, then Jowan would be made Tranquil without proper trial. I had to keep this going. "…Jowan, the cells are over that way," I whispered, pointing to the side hallway. "We might be able to find something in that direction."

"Are you sure? I mean; what are the chances?"

"The Tower was built quite some time ago, Jowan. According to the history books, many older buildings have multiple ways in and out of practical every important room in case of an attack."

"Point. Besides, I'll take any chance I'll get."

"Yes, now is not the time to give up," Lily agreed with a smile. "We can do this. I know we can."

"Then let us…" I trailed off as I heard something. Who would be down here besides…? Oh, of course. It was quite silly of me to forget why I had always needed Irving's permission to come down here. "No, hold a moment. I had forgotten the guards here."

"Guards?"

"Yes, the animated statues and magical constructs that ensure that no apprentices or enchanter go to the solitary confinement cells and the repository without the explicit permission of a Senior Enchanter. Did you not know of it?"

"Layla, some days I wonder what goes through that head of yours," Jowan muttered as two of the statues stepped out from their resting places and a mage construct appeared from its glyph on the ground, taking the form of a mage to support the two warrior statues. "I don't suppose you have any residual permission."

"Do not be ridiculous, Jowan."

"You're the one who knew about the defenses and didn't mention them, yet I'm the ridiculous one?"

"What is it with mages and just talking?" Lily sighed with exasperation as the sentinels approached. The construct-mage kept its distance, just as any real mage would. "If they get in our way, then we must move past them." To my surprise, she marched right up to one of the sentinels and expertly disarmed it before using its own mace to bash its helmet in. "Well, should I fight them myself?"

"No, I believe I can disrupt the construct in back," I replied. "That would be much simpler. If you would like, you and Jowan can take care of these two?"

"Certainly. Jowan, dear?"

"R-right!" Jowan squeaked, going to work with spells as I ducked back to better focus on the construct-mage. Distance was little problem with magic, so long as the mage had proper control. A construct-mage had none, but Irving had specifically trained me for long-distance spells, to help counter my… reluctance to use the bigger spells. It was merely an exercise in focus and patience.

Luckily, I had a good bit of both! "Storms that crackle on the edge of the calm, bend to my will," I whispered, carefully urging my magic to wrap around the construct-mage. "Bend to my will and smite my foe." Lightning sparked into existence and followed the web my mana wove around the construct-mage, electrocuting it again and again. It took a few seconds, but eventually the construct was overloaded and dispersed.

Around the same time, Lily and Jowan had finished dealing with the sentinels. I was impressed by the number of dents in the armors. "Okay, I'm going to go check on the door up ahead," Jowan declared as he shook his hands out. Jowan specialized in fire magic, and that magic always had a tendency to make the joints uncomfortably warm. "Be right back!"

"Wait, Jowan!" I called, trying to get him to stop. He didn't, so I just sighed and turned to Lily, who was carefully setting the mace down next to the sentinel she stole it from. "Lily, may I ask where you learned how to wield a mace?"

She giggled. "Well, I wasn't _always_ a Chantry girl. Still, I shall be happy when we leave this place. It is a far from the Maker as one can get."

"Yes, I agree," I murmured, shuddering. "Perhaps the two of us should pray for protection?"

"Hmm, yes, I think we should." She glanced around before taking my hand and tugging me into an alcove. "Here, this should be good. Should I yell for Jowan?"

"I think we should let him have fun attempting to break down the locked door, since he ran off before listening to me."

She giggled at that before clasping her hands in prayer. I did the same and closed my eyes. "Maker, our enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against us. But our faith sustains us; we shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against us. We shall embrace the light. We shall weather the storm. We shall endure. Blessed be Your name, and may You see us through this trial. So mote it be."

"So mote it be." I opened my eyes and smiled at Lily, who smiled back. "Let us see if Jowan has started that funny muttering yet?"

"Oh, yes." She giggled again. "That's how we met, you know?"

"Truly? I must hear this!"

* * *

"Why do girls always gossip?" Jowan complained as we entered the repository at last. I knew this room well. Irving would send me here many times to check on an artifact hidden here. It would drive the Knight-Commander absolutely insane; he had little trust in apprentices.

"Perhaps it is simply something the Maker wished when we were born?" I giggled. Lily and I had been trading stories of Jowan's hilarious antics, much to his embarrassment. "Boys are fascinated by icky things like toads, while girls are compelled to gossip themselves silly."

"Whatever. Let's go hunt around? Or are you two going to pray again?"

"We did not encounter any more strange creatures as we headed here, now did we?"

"Okay, you've a point there, but… oh, never mind, let's just go hunting."

Giggling at how I had won the argument, I carefully wandered the repository. It would not do to accidentally cause one of the artifacts to go off. Not only would we get hurt, but we could also break the thing! Irving would be so upset, and I dared not think of how the Knight-Commander would react. He was _always_ cross over something. Still, though, there were no signs of a door here other than the one we entered from. I should go and check in with Jowan and Lily.

When I found them, though, I found them by a statue hidden in an out of a way corner. "Why are you two lingering here?" I asked as I approached. The statue was quite a strange one. It appeared to be a bald woman in an odd garment, wielding a spear. Why would this be down here?

"There's something off about this statue," Jowan explained as Lily hid further behind Jowan. She was quite nervy around the artifacts. Was she afraid of magic? …No, that would be ridiculous. After all, she loved a mage.

"Do you mean besides the fact that it is here in the place where the Circle stores all their magical artifacts?"

"Yes, besides that."

"P-perhaps we can continue looking for a way through?" Lily suggested hesitantly. "We don't have much-"

"Greetings," a voice whispered, interrupting Lily. It was soft, echoing in my head, and most definitely a woman's. Who was speaking?

"Maker's breath!" Jowan breathed as Lily yelped. I kept silent, more curious than afraid. "What's going on?"

"I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zenovia, once consort and advisor to Archon Valerius." So, we were hearing a ghost speak? Was not magic wonderful sometimes? "Prophecy was my crime, cursed to stone when I foretold the fall of my lord's house." …The statue was talking in our heads. I believe this was one of the stranger things I had encountered as a mage. I was not sure if it beat learning of Finn's full name. That was truly a strange mess of syllables, particularly his insistence of 'esquire' at the end.

"Archons were the lords of the Imperium, yes?" I asked.

"Yeah," Jowan confirmed. "I don't know that name, though."

"Forever shall you stand on the threshold of my fortress, he told me," Eleni continued explaining. She sounded resigned to it all. "You may tell your lies to those who pass through. However, my lord found death and his proud fortress crumbled into dust around me."

"How do we know this isn't a trick?" Lily demanded. She was gripping Jowan's arm tightly. "Whatever she is, she's of the Imperium, which cursed us all. I wouldn't listen to her."

"Lily, I think it's a victim," Jowan murmured. "I feel a little sorry."

"How did she even arrive here?" I mused. "It must have been quite some time ago." Ignoring Lily's protests, I reached out to brush off the dust that stubbornly clung to Eleni's stone shoulders. "This is almost as bad as the underside of Anders's bed."

"Oh, Maker, don't remind me of that."

"I wonder if there is a way to break it."

"Weep not for me, nor go through such troubles," Eleni gently refused before Lily could snap at me. "Stone, I became and stone, I am. I am eternal and unfeeling, just as all other rocks are. I shall endure until the Maker returns to light all fires again."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's ambiguous rubbish," Jowan sighed. "Typical. Look, I can do it too. 'The sun grows dark but lo! Here comes the dawn!'"

"Might we leave it alone?" Lily asked shakily. "Come on!" Jowan nodded and quickly followed his girlfriend to a different section of the room.

I made to follow, but Eleni's voice rang out one more time. "Young one." I turned back to face the statue. "Do not keep the Eagle's Power hidden. It will be needed."

"What are you talking about?" There was, of course, no answer. "I… see then. I will try."

"Why are you still talking to it?" Lily had returned to take my hand. "Come on," she insisted, tugging me away. "Jowan has that 'thinking face' on."

"I thought I smelled smoke," I joked. She giggled as she continued tugging me to where Jowan was studying the bookcase. "Jowan, what is it?"

"Just noticing how weak this old wall is," Jowan replied. Oh, so he was studying the wall _behind_ the bookcase. That was an error on my part. "I wonder if we can take advantage of that?"

"What do you mean?" Lily asked.

"Well, I'm no expert, but if we think of how we've been running about, then I think the chamber would be on the other side of this wall, behind this bookcase." Jowan was always quite good at orientation, by far the best of us four. "I'm going to move the bookcase. Maybe you two can find a way to knock a brick or two loose."

"You mean besides the amplification artifact over here?" I asked softly, pointing to a dog statue I recognized. "If we combine it with the power of the rod of fire, it should do something."

"Let's get it into position!" Lily pressed eagerly. "Oh, but how did you know what it was?"

"I helped Irving carry it down when it arrived. Help me push it into place?"

"Of course!"

Jowan had just managed to get the bookcase out of the way when Lily and I got the artifact at a safe distance from the crumbling wall. Truly, we might not have even needed the artifact, but it would not hurt. At least, I hoped it would not. "Okay, let's try it!" Jowan insisted as he ducked behind the artifact. "Hurry! The clock is ticking!"

It certainly was. As much faith I had in Irving, I knew he could not keep the Knight-Commander at bay for long. So, this time, I did not hesitate, but made myself use the rod of fire on the amplification statue. It immediately took the spell and blasted out a stream of fire far more powerful than I could hope for. It took naught but a second for the wall to crumble, leaving a hole just large enough for us to crawl through.

"It worked!" Jowan cheered as the last of the rubble hit the ground. "Layla, you're amazing!"

"We must find the phylactery quickly," Lily reminded. Still, she beamed at me in her own show of thanks.

"Shouldn't be hard. There aren't that many apprentices at the moment."

"Then let us move," I insisted. I tucked the rod of fire back into my robes, and told myself to not shake. "Come on!"

Quickly, we raced inside the room, magically spelled to be cold, so that the blood in the phylacteries was kept as pristine as possible. We jumped up the stairs leading to where they kept them and frantically hunted through the shelves. Still, it seemed as if we had just started searching when Jowan triumphantly cried out, "I found it!" I whirled to see him studying the small vial made when he was a child. "It's amazing how something so small stands between every mage and freedom. So small and fragile." He dropped it to the floor, where it shattered instantly. The blood spread out eerily on the floor, as if hunting for something to hide in. "That's it. I'm free."

"Yes, we both are," Lily agreed, kissing his cheek with a smile. "Come! I would not stay here a moment longer!"

I lingered a bit as they raced for the door. In truth, I should have intervened there. However, I did nothing as he picked up his phylactery and dropped it to the ground. This was my own compromise. If they escaped anyway, they would be free.

Still, though, how had Jowan known so quickly which phylactery was his? Then again, the Circle was meticulous about labeling. Perhaps he had just been lucky.

* * *

When we left, there was no sign of Irving or Knight Commander Greagoir. In fact, there was no sign of templars at all. Had we gotten through faster than they had expected? If that was the case, then perhaps Jowan and Lily could escape before anything happened? If they attempted, what would I have to do?

"We did it," Jowan cheered, smiling at me. "Thank you, Layla. Seriously. Without you, that would've never-"

"Jowan, quiet," Lily suddenly hissed. She was more nervous now than she had been in the repository. "If we're not careful, templars will come and…"

"So, what you said was true, Irving." There they were. They were here now. They must have been hiding right outside the doors, considering how quickly they had appeared. The Knight Commander looked particularly annoyed as he spoke. "An initiate conspiring with a blood mage."

"A First Enchanter's job is to know everything that goes on in his Circle," Irving replied, coming up to stand next to Jowan and me. "But, Greagoir, I've told you that there was an alternative explanation to your suspicions of his sneaking around."

"Yes, yes." The Knight Commander sighed as he studied Lily. "Shocked, but in control of her mind. Not a thrall. Strange, I was certain she was. Why else would she take such stupid risks?"

"I could wax poetic, but I think Wynne might find a way to hurt me."

"Bah." Knight Commander Greagoir looked almost disgusted. "An initiate betrayal and a newly dubbed mage already flouting the rules of the Circle."

"Whatever do you mean, Greagoir?" Irving's voice took on a light, whimsical tone. I knew he was about to spin a lie. "I asked Layla to check on an artifact for me. There is no rule stating she could not, say, invite her friend down to give him some alone time with his girlfriend. Layla has covered for Anders and Neria before." I… well, yes, I have, but I was not sure that was something that needed to be said here, though!

"Oh, enough," the Knight Commander sighed. "Very well, Irving. I shall imprison Jowan as you asked for a more complete investigation. It will come to the same conclusion." No, it would not. Jowan was not so stupid. "But for the initiate who has scorned the Chantry and her vows? We will take her to Aeonar." …Pardon?

"Isn't that too harsh, Greagoir?" Irving asked, obviously started. "This is barely a crime!"

"There have been too many. She shall serve as an example."

"P-please…" Lily whimpered, gripping my arm as the two leaders argued. Jowan remained nearby, frozen at the news. I did not blame him. Aeonar was the mages' prison, far worse than any Circle. "Please, help me. I'll go anywhere but there. Please…"

"Wait a moment," I whispered back, hugging her. "Hide behind me. Irving will calm him down. You shall see." To be sent there was to die. There was no way to escape that place unscathed.

"Enough, Irving!" The Knight-Commander yelled. "She's not under your protection; she's under mine!" He gestured at the templars standing guard nearby. How many were there? I counted ten, not counting the Knight-Commander. "Go! Take her!" The templars advanced and I shifted so that Lily was firmly hidden behind me. "Knock her aside if she gets in the way!"

"No, I won't let you touch them!" Jowan suddenly snapped, producing a knife from robe and stabbing himself in the hand. I almost shrieked, but then found my voice stolen by the sight of the crimson whirlwind of power that surrounded him. He… he was using blood magic. He was using _blood magic_. He had lied. He had _lied_ to me! Jowan… Jowan, _why_?

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts, I could not scream as he attacked the templars. I could not cry as he attacked Irving. I could not do anything as he proved to everyone in the room just why mages were so feared, and why the world was _justified_ in thinking that.

"By… by the Maker…" Lily whispered when the whirlwind finally died. She was shaking in my arms as she stared at Jowan. "Blood magic? How… how could you? You said you never…"

"I… I dabbled. I thought it would make me better," Jowan mumbled. I could only stare in shock. Blood splattered his robes, hands, even his face. Blood coated the floor and stained the rugs. The templars and Irving were groaning as their blood stained their own clothes, as they attempted to stand up and stop him. Jowan… Jowan, why…? _Why_?!

"Blood magic is evil. It corrupts people, changes them."

"I'm going to give it up! I'm giving up all magic! I just want to be with you! Lily, please…!" He held out his wounded hand, still dripping blood. "Please, come with me!"

There was a moment where everything seemed to stand still. There was no sound, no breath. Even time froze for this moment. But then Lily turned away, hiding her face in my shoulder. "I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you. But now… now I don't know who you are." She began to sob. "Stay away from me, blood mage." Jowan stared, as if not sure he had heard right.

So, I glared at him and hid Lily further from his sight as she broke down in my arms. "Run, Jowan," I hissed, forcing malice when all I wanted to do was break down into sobs just as Lily was. "Run far away and never return. If I see you again, I will kill you." Looking as if I had slapped him, he raced off, tripping as he disappeared into the corridor. I should have just attacked him right then, truth be told, but he was still _Jowan_ and I still loved him as my brother, even though he had just used me, had just betrayed me. Why… why was I so… so _stupid_?

"Are you two all right?" Irving asked, making his way towards us. Blood shone eerily on the stone floors. "Did you see what happened to Greagoir?" I shook my head and told myself that the shaking I felt was from Lily, not from me. There were templars about and a mage did not show fear around a templar, especially not in these circumstances. "I see. Well, just give it two seconds and I'm sure-"

"I knew it," the Knight Commander growled, stomping over to Irving. The healer in me automatically took in both of their wounds. They were shallow, surface wounds more than anything. I thank You, Maker, for Your mercy. "Blood magic. To overcome so many, though…" He gestured at me. "I would've thought _her_ capable, sure, but him?" He suddenly glared at me. "You. You're one of his friends. Did you never even suspect?!"

"No," I whispered. My voice was shaking. "No, I… I would've never thought him that stupid."

"None of us expected this," Irving defended. "Are you all right, Greagoir?"

"As good as can be expected, given the circumstances! If you'd let me act sooner-!"

"If you had investigated when I asked, I wouldn't have stopped you."

"Well, now we've a blood mage loose! We have to get his phylactery!"

"That… that will not work," I squeaked. I did my best to not shake. Lily was still crying in my shoulder. "His phylactery was destroyed."

"And how did _that_ happen?!" I flinched as he roared in my face. "What did you do?!"

"I did not stop him in time." What was I suppose to say? "J-Jowan was never good at running, though. He could not have gotten far."

"And we shall use every resource we have to catch him." He was back to calm. This was not good. This was not good at all. I tried to hide Lily further as he focused his too-calm anger on her. "And you, initiate! You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"

"Wait, please!" I protested. "We were both horribly tricked!"

"No, save your breath," she told me. "I can speak for myself." She pulled away from me, using her sleeves to dry her tears. "Knight-Commander, I… I was wrong. I was a willing accomplice to… to a blood mage." She shook, even as she tried to stay dignified. "I will accept whatever punishment is given to me."

"Get her out of my sight," the Knight Commander growled to his fellow templars.

Before they grabbed her, though, she pressed something into my hand. It was a bracelet made of simple silver chaining blue gems together. "My mother gave this to me to remind me that I was loved," she whispered. "I give it to you, in hopes that you remember the mistakes I made because of love, and do not repeat it."

"Goodbye, Lily," I whispered back, gripping the bracelet tightly as a templar roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her away. This… this was just so _wrong_.

"Why did you send her into that repository, Irving?" the Knight-Commander sighed as they disappeared into the hall. I let them talk over my head, struggling to put on the bracelet. It had a difficult clasp. Lily must have been quite dextrous.

"Why not?" Irving countered, absently reaching over to help me. I tried to smile in thanks, but was far too tired. "I've sent her before. She is my star pupil, after all."

"Of course, how could I forget? You only brag about her to everyone you meet, even Teyrn Loghain." Pardon me? "That phylactery chamber is forbidden to all save you and me! You're not all knowing, Irving. Who knows how far his influence was? How are we to deal with this?"

"Knight-Commander, if I may?" Commander Duncan walked up then, looking strangely at home amidst the blood. "There was a second reason for my coming to the Tower," he continued when the Knight-Commander nodded, clearly aggravated by the interruption. "I was looking for mages to join the Grey Wardens." He set a hand on my shoulder. "I've heard nothing but praise for Miss Layla's abilities. I would like to recruit her." Pardon me?

The Knight-Commander stared a moment in shock before rounding on Irving. "You promised him a recruit?" he accused.

"I promised nothing," Irving deflected neatly. "I merely bragged about Layla to someone I met, as I always do. You just mentioned that habit, actually."

"I object to this! She's just been brought into the Circle, powerful or no! Plus this whole business is suspect!"

"I don't think that matters, Greagoir. Have you forgotten? Duncan need only invoke the Right of Conscription, and you're forced to it." The Knight-Commander was silent. "Greagoir, please. If you will not trust her or him, then trust me, as you always have."

"The mages are needed," Commander Duncan pressed as the Knight-Commander remained silent. "This mage is needed. Worse things are plaguing this land than blood mages, you know that."

"Pardon me, but may I speak?" I finally squeaked. All three men turned their attention to me. "I am afraid I am horribly lost at what is going on."

"Ah, I'm sorry, my dear," Irving laughed softly. "Duncan wishes to take you from the Circle, as a recruit for the Wardens."

"So, I am to leave the Circle?" But I… I was not sure I _wanted_ to leave. The Circle had my family. I had no ties, really, to the outside world.

"The Circle never forgets its apprentices, wherever they may fly. You will always be a reflection of our teachings. But the Wardens shall be your new family."

"I… I love my family here, sir."

He smiled at that. "And we shall always _be_ your family, Layla. Just because you have a new one does not mean you have to forget your old one."

"I… if that is what the Maker wills?"

"It seems so."

"Th-Then, I will accept."

"Then go and gather your things," Commander Duncan ordered. The Knight-Commander looked livid. "Make your farewells. I would leave soon, to avoid getting caught up in this madness."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, curtseying before racing for the stairs to my… my old-new room.

To my surprise, though, Neria was already there, packing a bag for me. "Oh, hey there," she greeted, smiling sadly.

"What are you doing here?" I had to ask.

"…It's already spread around the Tower. Jowan's flight was rather… conspicuous. There are also templars not happy that you're being sent with…"

"Yes, I…"

"I figured you'd be panicking over what to pack, so I came here to help!" She turned back to the bag. "There are some robes and undergarments, a few little trinkets like the things Anders would bring back for us, and the… the pictures…" Some of the mages here had artistic talents and would frequently draw whatever they saw. Quite a few of them had been inspired by us four with our strong _friendship_. Jowan… Jowan, why would you…? "I asked a couple of the enchanters, and they actually suggested you not carry a staff. I think they were thinking you should learn knife work or something." Who would teach me something like that though?

"I shall take that advice." Besides, the staves wielded by most of my fellow mages were so noticeable and cumbersome. I would be glad to not carry one.

"Hey, Layla?"

"Yes?"

She hugged me tightly. I had not even seen her move. "Never forget that you have family here," she whispered in my ear. "I know we aren't of the same blood or even race, but you and I are sisters. Now and forever."

"I will miss you, Neria," I whispered back. "Do not forget me."

"Never." She pulled away and helped me shoulder the pack. "Well, off you go. There's no way the templars will let me close to the doors, but I'll head up to a balcony floor to wave you off."

"Okay." We both smiled at each other and then parted ways. She raced for the stairs and I walked to entrance of the Tower. I thought about going to find Cullen and wishing him farewell, but decided against it. It would look too odd. Even worse, though, was the fact that he might get into trouble for it. No, it would be better to not go find him. If he happened to be near, I could silently tell him goodbye, but I could not go looking for him. I did get a bit of luck, though, when I arrived. Cullen was one of the templars waiting to help open the door, along with a few others I vaguely recognized. Irving and Commander Duncan waited at the doors themselves, listening to the Knight-Commander rant.

Ignoring all forms of dignity, though, Irving rushed forward and gave me a huge hug. "You'll be fine," he reassured. "I know you well. You'll do us all very, very proud."

"I will try," I promised. "I am sad to leave, Irving."

"Then you merely have to come back and visit. The Tower is always open to you, dear." He kissed the top of my head. "Go and fly, Layla. All will be well."

"Until we meet again then, Irving." I smiled as bright as I could at him before turning that smile to each of the templars here to open the doors. I lingered my gaze on Cullen, who was the only one to smile back, before focusing on Commander Duncan. "I am ready."

"Then let's be off," Commander Duncan replied. The Knight-Commander looked quite sour. "Open the gates for us, please."

The templars rushed to obey, keeping silent all the while. I was startled when the Knight-Commander touched my shoulder as the doors finally opened and sunlight streamed inside. "Well, good luck out there, girl," he muttered. "You'll need it."

Uncertain how to take that, I defaulted to my normal politeness. "Thank you, Knight-Commander. I am sorry about Jowan. If… if I see him, I will report it immediately."

"Good. I expect nothing less." He saluted me, a mage. He even smiled slightly. I had not once seen him smile at anyone before. "Farewell, Miss Amell."

"Farewell, Knight-Commander." I curtseyed back and took my first step outside of the Tower for many years. It was weird. Anders had always spoken highly of the outside, but I did not see what was so special. If anything, I felt afraid at all the things I could see. This was the outside world. The last time I had been here, my father had tried to kill me for being different. What… what was I supposed to…?

"Layla!" At my name, I looked up and saw the balconies of the Tower filled with mages and apprentices, those who had not gone to the King's Army in Ostagar. I recognized some of them on sight, mostly those who had forced their way to the front. There was Leorah, a recent Senior Enchanter, waving next to Sweeney, an elder Senior Enchanter whose sight was slowly deteriorating. Close to them was Niall debating with Senior Enchanter Torrin, though both stopped their debates to grin at me. Cera, who taught runecrafting and enchanting, was cheering next to Keili, who was praying as she always did. Godwin looked nervous in the crowd, but he smiled and waved from his hiding place next to the cheering Petra and Kinnon. In another part of the crowd, Finn and Eadric were discussing books, but both spared a moment long enough to shout encouragement my way. Of course there, front and center, was Neria, cheering the loudest even as she cried.

I found myself crying to as I saw them all wishing me well and waved back before turning to where Commander Duncan was waiting at the dock. A fisherman was already there, ready to take the two of us away from the Tower. But with everyone cheering, I no longer felt afraid. I felt ready.

"Do you know how to get into a boat safely?" Commander Duncan asked me as I stepped up beside him. I shook my head, afraid to talk. "Here, then. Give me your hand and I'll help you." He did so and we quickly pushed off, sailing across the lake. As we sailed, I found myself unable to believe everything that happened in this one, single day.

I suppose I was _truly_ a Harrowed Mage now. I had gone through quite a few harrowing events, at the least. Surely, nothing I would experience would ever be worse.

* * *

Author's Note – Title refers to the Achievement for completing the Mage Origin. Like I've done in other fics, I'm prefacing each non-intro chapter with a memory for the POV char, typically related to something inside the chapter itself, just for more background for the chars. This memory is Layla visiting Anders while he was in solitary confinement. There are cells located in the basement area in the Tower, so I've chosen to believe this is where he was kept.  
But wow, this all happened in one day. Longest day _ever_. No, I did not produce all those names from random. Those are the names of every named mage that we know was _not_ in the Tower at this time. …What? I decided that there should be a bit of a triumphant send-off. Oh, for those wondering about the whole "power of eagle" thing, that's literally what Amell supposedly means. I'm a bit of a sucker for incorporating name meanings. Lily's prayer is piecing together some known bits of the Chant.

Next Chapter – Dalish Origin with our second POV char.


	4. Chapter 3) Origin of Cleon Mahariel

**Chapter 3) Origin of the Shadow Assassin, Hero of the Dales – Eluvian**

_Cleon Maharial POV_

* * *

"_Never again will we submit." That is the creed of my people. We hunt and keep the lost lore, staying apart from the rest of 'society'. That is because we opted for the lonely path. Welcomed nowhere, we simply wander the lands, desperately searching for what has been lost for thousands of years. It is a hard struggle, but we are proud of it. We hope for the day we have a homeland again, a day when our Creators can find their way back to us. At least, that is the opinion of my people._

_I'm not so certain I want the mythical homeland, though. I've always known this life, and it's the only one I've ever wanted. I'm content here in the forest, and I'm content with wandering. But I also want my people to thrive again, to soar, so I suppose I must keep my own wandering spirit in check._

_My greatest dream is to somehow open the gate to my people's paradise and guide their weary souls there. Of course, a simple hunter probably can't do anything like that, but it never hurts to dream. For now, though, I take my duties as hunter and eldest child of a former Keeper seriously. One day, what was stolen from we elvhen will be found and replaced. I know it. I'll do it with my own two hands if need be._

* * *

This was one of the moments where I truly felt alive. Racing through the trees, relying on my instincts to keep from tripping as I kept my eyes on the prize. Tracking the prey as it stumbled through the underbrush, through the brambles. Hunting was truly an amazing thing, a wonderful combination of athletics and strategy.

And when the prey happened to be some stupid shem'len getting far too close to the camp? Well, I certainly didn't mind.

"And just where do you think you're going, shem'len?" I asked with false politeness as I leapt from the shadows and appeared in front of the group. Three of them, fat and lazy. Stupid of them to venture so far from home.

"You… you're a Dalish!" one of them yelped, showing the same intelligence as a three year old.

"And you three are somewhere you shouldn't be," Tamlen noted calmly as he stepped out from the trees with an arrow aimed at them. The three were now trapped between us. Perfect.

"Let us pass, knife-ear," another said, showing as much _sense_ as a three year old. "You have no right to keep us."

"No?" Tamlen smirked and nodded at me. "We'll see about that, won't we, falon?"

"Oh, no doubt," I agreed. The three shem'len were skittish. "So, what do we have? Bandits? More pathetic souls wandering about?"

"Can't believe they ever drove us out of our homes, huh?"

"We never did nothing to you!" one squeaked. "We… we didn't even know the forest was yours!"

"The forest belongs to no one, idiot," I snapped. "But you shem'len are like vermin, really. There's enough mischief nowadays without the rodents getting into it."

"So, like all vermin, they need to be dealt with," Tamlen agreed. I could tell he really wanted to loose that arrow. "So…"

"W-wait, we didn't mean to make trouble!" I was losing track of which shem'len was talking already. They were all alike. Only the faces and colors changed. "There were just these caves, with ruins like we'd never seen. So… uh… well, we thought…"

"Treasure. Of course." Both Tamlen and I rolled our eyes. Thieves, just like all the other shem'len. But this lot? Well, they were adding 'liars' on top of it. "There aren't any ruins in these parts, though, so I'm curious what you're going on about."

"No, we're not lying!" One of the shem'len stumbled to me, tossing a small carving my way. "We… we found these outside!"

I frowned as I studied the piece. I recognized some of this from Merrill's studies. "The carvings are elvish," I told Tamlen. "Written elvish, I think."

"And… and there's more in the ruins!"

"You didn't go deeper? Surprising."

"Well, we… we heard something, so we ran. And then kept running." Ah, must've been when we caught them, _if_ they were telling the truth. Which I doubted.

"And… ah… where _is_ this ruin?" Tamlen asked, obviously bored and having written them off as liars.

"To the west. There's a cave in the rock face. You'll find it there."

"Hmm… interesting." Tamlen focused on me. "Well, what shall we do with them, falon?"

Honestly, I was tempted to kill them, but there was something wrong with killing something so obviously scared. Besides, there was a _very_ important reason to not be moving on so soon. So… "Go," I ordered them coolly, stepping out of the way. I kept my daggers out, by my side. "Tell your people to stay away, shem'len, and we'll let you go with your lives."

"Oh… oh, thank you!" All three of them spouted the same words of false gratitude as they raced away. They tripped about ten times each. Pathetic.

"Why let them go, falon?" Tamlen growled once they left sight. I could tell that he'd really wanted to fire at least a warning shot.

"Something about my twin sister being nearly six months pregnant," I retorted easily. "I don't suppose you know anything about that, eh?"

"…Yeah, Lyna would skin me alive if I made her run about just because I couldn't keep from purging the world of a few shem'len, husband or not." He sighed, but grinned. "Six months… it won't be long before our da'len is running about."

"Creators help us all!"

"Yeah, laugh it up. Just wait until you and Merrill get it going." I flushed at the implication, but that was mostly because… "Wait, why are you… no way, when did you two find the _time_? I mean; you're always running around and Merrill's busy with Keeper stuff!"

"That's not your business, falon." How was this nosy busybody my best friend? "So, what should we do about those supposed ruins?"

"Sure, change the subject." Tamlen, I was going to punch the grin off your face. "Well, I guess we go verify. If they were talking lies, can we go after them again?"

"Of course not."

"Fine, fine. Seriously, live a little, falon. You're too serious. Although, I guess _Merrill_ doesn't mind."

For the record, it was not my fault he somehow tripped and landed face first into the mud. …Okay, not the landing face-first into the mud part. I did trip him.

* * *

Well, wonder of wonders. Shem'len who weren't lying. Still, I didn't much like the look of these ruins. Something was off about them.

"Well, this must be the cave," Tamlen commented, pointing out the obvious. "Were these here before?"

"Not to my knowledge," I replied. Yes, my instincts were to run screaming. Something was definitely off. "Let's go back and tell Keeper Marethari."

"Always the careful one." He chuckled. "However, I don't intend on going back until we find something definitely worth making a fuss over."

"Tamlen, we found ruins and a carving. I think that's enough."

"I just want to look around. How dangerous could it be?"

"Now I _know_ Fen'harel has a trap in here for stupid elves like you."

He flashed me a grin. "Come on!" He jumped inside, not even bothering to check for traps.

"Oh, sure, let's ignore the elf with just enough magic to have sharper instincts than normal," I grumbled as I followed him inside the strange looking ruins. These structures... they were not elvish. "That's always smart. How did you not die as a da'len, Tamlen?"

"You looked after me," he replied cheekily. Of course he'd heard me, even though he was far ahead. Tamlen had some of the best hearing in the Clan. Shame he didn't have _sense_ to go with it.

"One of these days, I'm not going to be able to pull you out of trouble. And I mean _real_ trouble, not prank trouble."

"Yeah, but not today!" He went through a door and yelped as an arrow flew out of the wall and clipped his arm. "What the-?!"

"You were saying?" I hid my unease in my driest tone. "Since you're already there, hit the switch."

"Where?"

"Above your head. Falon, look before you leap for once, please."

"Oh, okay." He pulled the lever and there was an audible click. "I hope that means it's off."

"Same. Come on; I'll bandage your arm as we explore."

"So we _are_ exploring."

"You won't shut up otherwise. Let's get moving."

"All right!"

Not that there was much in these ruins. Broken doors. Crumbling walls. Twisted trees. It honestly looked like any other ruin, aside from the... strange choice in architecture. Completely gutted and cleaned out. There really was no reason for my instincts to be screaming at me to run away. But they kept on screaming. They kept screaming even as Tamlen and I ran into a simple statue. Well, actually, it wasn't all that simple at all. Mostly because it confirmed just how _weird_ this place was. "Why is there a statue of one of the Creators here?" I asked as I studied it. "The place shows signs of shem'len architecture, but the carvings and the statues… these are _ours_."

"Do you think these ruins might date back to Arlathan?" Tamlen asked breathlessly. It was certainly a startling conclusion, but the only one that would make any sort of sense, unless there were kindly shem'len after the fall. Which I _highly_ doubted. "This place is amazing!"

...He just used that word. He really just... "Okay, that's it. Real reason for wanting to explore, _now_."

"What?" He stared at me for a moment. "Where did that come from?"

"Tamlen, you only use the word 'amazing' when you're getting out of trouble. It's been that way since we were da'len. Now talk."

"…Well, won't lie. I was sorta hoping this might get Keeper Marethari to, you know, forgive me for _that_."

Well, couldn't really fault him. She'd been absolutely livid at him over the incident. "Seriously, you get into too much trouble."

"And you, too little. You're too focused, falon. Live a little."

"Father was the Keeper before Marethari and Mother was a skilled hunter. I have expectations to live up to."

"Liar. You just want Hahren Paivel to praise you once." …I couldn't deny that. Hahren Paivel was literally the _only_ person in the Clan to never praise me, no matter how hard I pushed myself. He'd been a good friend of my father's, and had befriended my mother before she left. Of all those in the Clan, I wanted to hear a simple 'good work' from him. Just once. "Anyway, there's a door here. Let's go through it!" Wait, what?

"If you trigger another trap…" I sighed as he ran into the room and ignored him to study the statue again. I thought I recognized it as Falon'Din, the Creator who protected the dead and gave out fortune. He was a kind god, who discovered his abilities while helping an old doe find rest in the Beyond. A place this… this wrong should not be his, but perhaps this was a place where many people died, so the statue was erected in hopes they did not become lost. Perhaps this place was truly setheneran, and that was why it felt wrong to me.

Wait, if this place was truly setheneran, then that meant the Veil was thin and spirits could slip through and my idiot of a brother-by-marriage just wandered into a room alone and was being quiet.

"Tamlen?" I called, stepping into the room he went through earlier. I found him standing at the foot of something. A mirror? Yes, a mirror guarded by two warrior statues, all far larger than anything. What sort of person would use this? A giant? Tamlen looked so… small in front of it. "Tamlen."

"Hmm? Oh!" He turned to face me with a grin. "Hey there," he greeted. "Sorry, got distracted. Isn't this beautiful? And look at the writing! I wonder what it says."

"Well, that's for Keeper Marethari to decipher. Let's get back."

"And look at it! All shining and clean! There's not a smudge or crack on it!" …Did he just ignore me for a _mirror_? Tamlen's vanity strikes again. "Hey, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I think something moved inside the mirror."

"Inside the mirror. Right. Tamlen, let's get going. I think the air is addling you worse than usual." He didn't answer me. "Tamlen?" When he still didn't reply, I sighed and walked up behind him, intending to hit him or something for being an idiot. However, when I got close, I caught sight of something that wasn't my reflection. It… it was a city. An underground city. Covered in blackness. At least, it looked like a city. But what sort of city? Why was it there? Could I reach it? I wanted to go. I wanted to… to see… something was there. Calling for…

A howl started me right out of my thoughts and I whirled to see a wolf sitting right there in the doorway. Right in front of the statue still watching the area serenely. A strange wolf with snow-white fur. No, not completely white. There was brown too, right on the legs. At least, it looked brown from here. It was a very odd pattern, twining up its legs like branches or vines. What? Who?

Okay, that's it. This place was too strange and dangerous.

"Tamlen, we're leaving!" I snapped. He didn't react to me at all, just kept staring at the mirror. "Tamlen, come on!" I snatched him by the collar. "We're _leaving_!"

"I… I can't…" Tamlen gasped out. What was going on? "I can't look away, falon!" What? "It saw me!" What saw him? "It's pulling me in!"

"Then I'm pulling you _out_!" I tugged him back. It was much harder than it should've been. "Tamlen, I need you to grab my arm so that you don't slip from my grip." It took him a few tries, but he managed. He was still staring at the mirror, though. "Now, whatever you do, don't let go. I won't either. Keep calm, falon. I'll drag you all the way to camp if that's what it takes!"

"Cleon, I'm… I'm scared. It keeps sucking me in. No… no, there's… there's something clawing at my head! Cleon, help!"

"I'll get you to the Keeper. Calm down." In his head? Spirits. There were Spirits about. Had to be. Spirits had taken advantage of the weakened Veil and were not trying to... "Tamlen, falon, listen to me. _Listen_ to me. I'm right here." He started flailing despite my words, reaching for the mirror. Dragging us both back to it. "Tamlen! Tamlen, if you keep this up, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Get it out!" he shrieked. Was he even hearing me? "Get it out of my head! Cleon… Cleon, help me!"

"I'm trying! Falon… Falon, I'm right here. I have you. Just stop flailing and let me help you!" He kept fighting, though. "Tamlen!"

He hit the mirror and something flashed across the surface before a pulse of magic slammed into both of us. Tamlen was ripped from my hand as I hit the wall and felt _something_ crack as I slid down. Everything was blurry. Everything hurt. Could I breathe? Where was Tamlen? He was just here. I just had him. Where was he? I had to get to him. I heard screaming. Terrible screaming. It sounded like Tamlen. Why? Why was he… what else was… I had to get up. I had to help him. He was my best friend. He was my sister's husband. _I had to help him_!

"Stay still." There was someone here. No, something. This woman who appeared in front of me was not human. Her eyes were black and her skin was green. Brown branches twisted about her arms and hands as she brushed my hair out of my face. "All will be well." This was a Spirit. One should _never_ trust a Spirit.

"What… what did you do?" My voice was weak. The words were slurred. But I had… I had to get… Creators, please, make the screaming _stop_! Please! It sounded like someone was being _ripped apart_!

"I got here too late to save you completely." What? Why would…? "Stay still and sleep, da'len." Did she just… why would she… "I will get you to safety."

I tried to protest, but when I blinked I was in a completely different area. The sun was shining. I was outside. The Spirit was nowhere in sight. Instead there was a young girl. Red-gold hair and brown eyes with very pale skin. Did she never see the sun? "Oh, you are conscious!" She spoke oddly and she had a faint accent. I could see now that she was shem'len, though. Was I at her mercy? How pathetic of me. "Commander Duncan, come quick!" There was another? It was… it was so hard to stay awake, so hard to focus. "You are very badly hurt, mister." Oh, she was talking to me again? "I will heal you up as best as I can, though. I hope you do not mind magic very much." Magic? She was a mage? But the shem'len locked up their mages! They never let them free! Not willingly, at least. "You have a concussion, so you might be better served closing your eyes. I imagine things are quite dizzying for you."

"Who… who are…?" I tried to speak anyway. What was going on?

"I am Layla Amell, though I am not certain you will remember that!" She had a strangely calm and sweet smile. It reminded me a lot of Lyna's. "Oh, Commander Duncan, there you are! I was just about to heal him."

"Good, then we can see about getting him to his people. I knew there was a camp nearby." That voice was low, calm and authoritative. It reminded me a lot of Keeper Zathrian's, somehow. A voice that spoke of wisdom far beyond the years lived. The speaker's eyes also reflected great wisdom and pain. I could see that as he leaned over me. Who was he? Who was this strange man with dark skin and hair on his face? "I'm sorry, child." Was he talking to me? "I am so very sorry." For what? What was…?

Creators, what was… going… on?

* * *

Author's note: All right, part one of the Dalish origin! Argh, random elf words thrown in at random points. Feels off, and I kept wanting to throw in Tolkein's elvish. Oh well. Here's Cleon Mahariel, our 20-year-old Ranger (which I'm defining more as a good with animals and wood stuff than actual summoning of animals as it is in game) who dual-wields knives. I think, like Layla, you can take a guess at one of his future specializations, though, based on his title. Lyna is the default name of a FEMALE Dalish Elf. In game, as the female dalish, you can express interest in Tamlen, with the implication that the two were together or getting together. Here, I have it where Lyna exists, and she's already married to Tamlen. I'm sure I don't have to explain who Merrill is, but I find myself liking the interpretation that she and a Male!Mahariel were involved! And uh… another layer to the reason why Merrill is so obsessed with the eluvian.

Next Chapter – We're going to take a short break away from the Origin to see just what Layla and Duncan are up to~ (If you're wondering why I'm happy about this, it's because I realized it was a way to split up the super long chapter I was originally planning on posting)


	5. Chapter 4) Ruins

**Chapter 4) Ruins**

_Layla POV_

* * *

"_Layla, what are you doing here?" I jerked my head up to see Wynne walking into the library. "It's late, dear," she continued with a smile. "Have you not noticed?"_

"_No, I am afraid not," I replied honestly. It was hard to tell the time here in the library. _

_She came to sit beside me. "Well, what were you reading that had you so engrossed?"_

"_It is just a simple history book." I closed it and held it out to her so that she could see the title._

"_I wouldn't call anything about the Blights, 'simple'." She flipped through a few pages. "Why read this?"_

"_It was mentioned in our history lessons today. Since I had nothing to do, I decided to look further into it."_

"_Nothing to do? You lot?"_

"_Anders and Neria are both busy with girls. Jowan is in detention for the last prank."_

"_Busy with… Oh, I see." She laughed softly. "I remember those days. But you don't seem to be very interested in such things."_

"_I suppose I just haven't met the right one, yet, or something." Even as I said the words, though, my face heated up in a flush._

_Thankfully, Wynne pretended she did not see it. "So, you chose to read about the Blights?"_

"_Yes, I did. I wish I had not, though." I shuddered as I recalled what I had read. "It is quite scary. I am glad they do not exist anymore."_

"_I'm not sure that's something that can be said. Just because something has not happened does not mean it can't."_

"_Then I shall be thankful I will never see such a thing in real life. I am quite happy here in the Circle, and have no intentions of leaving."_

"_And I am glad you see it that way, dear. Truly."_

* * *

"Commander Duncan, why are we returning to the ruins?" I asked as we wandered the woods.

"I need to check something there," he answered me easily, if vaguely.

"I thought you had hoped to be in that oddly named city by now, though."

"Denerim, and yes, but this is something we really need to check. And also…"

"Yes?"

"No, nothing. Hopefully, it's just my paranoia acting up. Careful, there's a root here." Even with the warning, I tripped over it anyway. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine." Considering how many times I had fallen over, I believed my feet were becoming immune.

I would never have considered myself clumsy before. Certainly, I never tripped in the Tower. But there were just so many _things_ out here! There were rocks in the road, roots in the path, and my feet somehow found each and every one. The roads and paths were not smooth, like the floors in the Circle, so I would stumble when I found a small hole. Oh, and the things I could see and feel were so _strange_! The trees were taller than the walls of the Tower; their bark was rough and coarse to the touch. The flowers were bright and cheerful. The wind was gentle yet fierce as it whipped my hair about. The mud clung to the bottom of my robes, worse than any dust.

I was not much liking the world outside of the Tower. There was just too much to focus on. I felt like someone was trying to cram the entire library into my head! It hurt almost as much as my feet. I would much prefer to return, but I had a feeling my request would be denied.

Well, if I could not return, then I hoped we could leave this forest soon. It made me incredibly nervous. "Commander Duncan?"

"Yes?"

"Must we stay here much longer? The Veil is thin, and I do not feel safe."

"We'll be leaving tomorrow," he promised. "I'm not surprised by the Veil, though. Many people died here, in the days long past."

I shuddered at the mere thought. That many deaths… it was a horrid thing to even think of. What could have possibly been worth fighting that much for? There was nothing, really, that I could think of. What good was surviving when you had so much blood on your hands and that many corpses trailing behind you? "Commander Duncan?"

"Yes?"

Could I go home now? "I believe we are almost at the ruins?" At least, that was what I hoped. All these trees looked the same to me.

"Yes, we are. Stay behind me."

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do as I say." I knew that tone. Irving would take that tone whenever something dangerous was near. So, I instinctively did as he ordered, keeping close and staying behind him as a strange sort of noise grew louder and louder. I would say it was talking, but I did not know the language. It sounded harsh and cold. I hated the sound.

I was startled from my thoughts when Commander Duncan grabbed my arm and tugged me behind a tree. "Commander Duncan?"

"Easy," he murmured. "They're right there."

I almost asked what he was talking about, but then I caught sight of them. There were only a handful by the entrance there. There were shorts ones that toddled about on tiny legs, and taller ones with pointed ears and what seemed to be an iron mask over their face. Both, however, were being pushed around by the slightly taller ones, who were dressed in broken armor. It would have been almost comical, if not for how _twisted_ they looked. Their skin was mottled yellow and red, and they bore decaying fangs. Even the ground underneath them could not bear their rank presence, rotting beneath their feet.

Not even a Pride Demon was this terrifying.

"C-C-Commander D-Duncan?" I began shakily. I hoped they would not hear me. "W-what are th-those…?"

"Darkspawn," he answered easily. These… these _things_ were the darkspawn of legend? What sort of disgusting mind conjured them up? Surely, it was not the Maker. "Genlocks, hurlocks… not often we see shrieks this early."

"Pardon?"

"The short ones that resemble dwarves are genlocks." They resembled dwarves? Ugh, what disgusting creatures dwarves must be! "The ones with pointed ears are sharlocks, though we mostly call them shrieks among the Wardens because it reminds us of their most dangerous weapon." Why would they have pointed ears? The only race with pointed ears was the elves, was it not? "The last ones are hurlocks. You will see many genlocks and hurlocks, especially during a Blight."

"Is it strange to see these… shrieks… because they are the rarest?"

"No, the rarest are ogres. Be glad there isn't one of them about."

"How can you tell?"

"Trust me, Layla, you will always be able to tell when an ogre is near." He turned to face me. "Okay, here's what I need you to do." I had to do something? I wanted to _run_. "Do you see in the back that one genlock? The one wielding the staff?" I had to peek out further than I wanted to in order to see it, but I eventually nodded. It was hiding deeper in the ruins. "That's an emissary. Likely, it's commanding the others here. I need you to keep it from casting spells on me while I deal with the others."

"We are fighting?"

"Yes, that's what Wardens do. We can't allow them to reach the other parts of the forest. They'd destroy it."

As much as I hated the place, even I could see just how devastating such a thing would be. "I will do my best."

"Just focus on the mage. I should be able to take the others. Get a shield up in case one slip past me."

"Pardon?"

"Just do it." He ran off before I could ask anything further. "Um… Very well, sir…" Oh, what was I supposed to do? Well, let us see… there _was_ that spell from the Spirit Branch. Yes, that would work out nicely.

As the sounds of fighting rang out, I concentrated on the flow of magic in the area. It was startling just how frayed the Veil was here, and how much the magic crashed about. I had to be extra careful in how I shaped my magic, and how I hunted for the enemy mage in the mess. With that said, once I found it, I was surprised I had not immediately gone for it. The thing's magic was as twisted as its skin. There was just something _wrong_ about it, just as there was something _wrong_ with blood magic. But even with it being so wrong, it was still magic and, thus, would be affected by this simple spell. "Power of mine which flows through the world," I whispered. "Find all spells in the air and spirit and reap them from the soul." There was the danger of harming your fellow mages with it, because of the large area it encompassed, but when you did not have to worry about such things, it was invaluable for making sure your enemies could not take cover behind spells. "At my command, Mana Cleanse." There was a shriek in the distance and I could not help but grin as the creepy little thing stomped about like a child throwing a tantrum as its mana broke apart into the ether. Whatever spell it had been trying to cast, it no longer had the reserves to use it. Mana Cleanse wiped out all spells.

Now that I was thinking about it, it would also disrupt healing spells, wouldn't it? Thank the Maker that this thing was not attempting that. A life was a life, even when it was an enemy's, and I could not bear the thought of accidentally causing a death because I had nullified the-

"Layla!" I snapped my head up to see one of the creatures racing right for me. It was one of those… shriek things, and it was coming from a different direction that the others were. It must have been hiding in the shadows. That was... oh, why was it coming after me?!

W-Well, I suppose I would just have to freeze it in its tracks. I had just the spell to do it, too! "Here me now, whispers of…" Just as I was summoning the magic, though, it shrieked and the pain in my ears startled me into losing control of the spell. Raw magic shot from my hand and went right through its head. It fell at my feet, blood splattering all over my shoes and robes. It was dead. It was _dead_. I… I had _killed_ it.

"Layla, are you all right?" Commander Duncan was by my side, gripping my shoulder. When had he appeared? What about the other things? Did he kill them? "Layla? Did-"

"I killed it." My voice was very, very soft, and it shook so much in just three words. "I killed it."

"…Layla…"

"I did not want to. I was going to just freeze it. I was! But I lost the spell and it went flying and… and…" Why was I freaking out? Why was I panicking? I had killed before. I had killed demons. I had killed Fade creatures. But this… this was different. Even though it had been a twisted _thing_, it bled. It bled, just like… like I would, if I were hurt. It had truly been _alive_. Yet now it was not. I had killed it. It was _dead_.

"You saved quite a few people by doing so." Commander Duncan's words were soft. "Try to focus on that, when things get hard." I nodded, unable to say another word. "Come on."

He gently took my hand and led the way into the ruins, right past the bodies. I tried to ignore them and study the area, but there was not much to them. Certainly, there was very little to distract me from the blood staining my robe and shoes. There were crumbling walls, broken doors, and foliage twisting about. Once or twice, I thought I caught the remains of a poor soul, but I made myself not take a closer look. I did not like it when things died. I could do nothing for the dead. I learned healing to save people, not watch them die in front of me.

Oh, why could I have not stayed in the Tower? I preferred it there! I wanted to go _home_!

"Ah, so this is where the source is coming from," Commander Duncan said after a long while of meandering about. We were at some strange door in a corridor. I glanced inside to see an odd mirror, one that made my skin crawl. I was not sure what 'source' he was talking about, but I certainly did not like it. "I'm going to investigate further in here. Stay out here until I get back. It's dangerous in there."

Wait, so I was to stay out here, alone? But I would rather… no, wait, I did _not_ want to go into that room. So, instead, I nodded and he let go of my hand to walk away. "Commander Duncan," I whispered, as I remembered something important. He paused in the doorway. "Beware of corpses and spirits. They can reach through more easily when the Veil is thin, and this place seems to be filled with things long gone."

"Thank you for the warning," he replied. I… got the feeling he already knew that. Oh, how embarrassing! "Shout if you see anything."

"Very well." He disappeared in the room and I kept myself busy by studying the strange statue placed in front of the door.

I would be very happy to leave this place, and never _ever_ return. I would be very, _very_ happy indeed.

* * *

Author's Note – Okay, just a cute little intermission with Layla and Duncan. Just little things like Layla getting a bunch of shocks. Fun, fun! (If it wasn't obvious, Layla is NOT really a fighter, just a mage who fends off demons. Oh, I'm going to have fun with her~ hehehe, hello, Ostagar!)  
Darkspawn DO appear in the Dalish Origin. Instead of having Cleon kill them though, as he would in game, I'm having Layla take care of it! Mana Cleanse is a… slightly bugged spell that does the opposite of what it says in game without a patch. I'm just going to assume it does exactly what it's supposed to. For now, at least.  
Why do I have darkspawn magic being 'wrong' and 'twisted' and 'like blood magic'? Well, it's mentioned that demons/spirits don't really know what to make of darkspawn, implying they don't ever go into the Fade, and darkspawn were said to be born from Tevinter Sin. What magic doesn't require mana and is famous in the Imperium? Blood magic.

Next Chapter – The rest of the Dalish Origin with Cleon


	6. Chapter 5) Corrupted

**Chapter 5) Origin of the Shadow Assassin – Corrupted**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_I was young. Young, naïve, and foolish. But even I knew what the discussion of today would be. I knew enough about my parents to know that they had not been formally married. Because of this, the Keepers would be discussing what should be done with us. My sister and me. Children of Keeper and Hunter, a secret union. Neither of us had magic, but they would still decide what would happen to us. __Stay with the Clan? Move to another? Together or separated? So many possibilities. Even though I was young, I knew enough. And I was scared. So, so scared._

"_Why are you away from the others, da'len?" I looked up to see someone approach. I knew him. Keeper Zathrian. Hahren Paivel had said he'd been good friends with my father. Still, I didn't answer him, just stared. Studied. I could see the bloodshot eyes, the tear marks on his face. He'd been crying. Silently. "What's wrong?"_

"_I don't want to leave." The words were quick. "I… I don't want to leave my Clan."_

"…_So, you know, despite Marethari's best efforts."_

"_Ashalle was crying. I… I tried to find out who did it, but…" Hesitantly, I reached out and gripped his robe. "I don't want to leave. I want to stay, here, with Lyna and Ashalle and Tamlen and… and everyone."_

"_So certain." He knelt down to look me in the eye, smiling reassuringly. "Why is that?"_

"_My father lived there. My mamae died there." I felt closest to them there. "I love the people there. It's home. I never want to leave."_

_He studied me for a moment. "You've your father's eyes." Huh? "I can guarantee nothing, Cleon, but I will speak on your behalf. I promise you that."_

_Really? "Ma serannas!"_

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a familiar sight. This was my… I was home. I was back at camp. How… when… what was going on?

"Cleon?" I turned to the entrance to see Lyna there. "You… you're awake?" Her voice was shaky.

"Seems so?" My voice was soft, raspy even. Why was that? What all had happened? "Lyna? You okay? You look pale."

"Oh… oh, blessed be you and your mercy, Creators!" She practically tackled me off the bed as she started to bawl. "Stupid Cleon! Stupid, stupid, stupid brother!"

"Hey, easy there," I murmured, patting her on the back. "You'll stress the baby."

"Then you should've not have been carried back with a fever, with a healer mentioned of the injuries she healed, which, by the way, included a cracked skull, and Tamlen should've not _disappeared_!"

Did I just hear that? "What do you mean Tamlen disappeared?" I'd ignore the injuries to myself _later_.

Sniffling, she pulled away, rubbing harshly at her eyes. "That strange man and mage brought you back," she explained. "But… but just you. We asked about Tamlen, but they only found you."

"He must still be in those stupid ruins." I moved to get out of my cot. "I have to go get him."

"You _have_ to get dressed, reassure Ashalle and Merrill, and talk to Keeper Marethari." And she was giving me that 'if you don't obey, I will scream and bawl' look. "Here, let me get you your clothes."

"Fine, fine." I sighed. She got up and bustled about. "Okay, be honest. Before I step out, do I look all right?"

"You're being vain _now_ of all times?"

"Well, I _am_ your twin, Miss 'does this dress make me look fat even though I'm pregnant'." She stuck her tongue out at me. "And no, I meant more like do I look like I did before? Some very strange things happened, Lyna."

"If you say so." She set down a pile of clothes besides me and made of show of studying me closely. "Well, your vallaslin are intact, still the same pattern you share with Junar. You're just as tan as before. Hair is nice and brown and your eyes are still the sparkling green that Merrill oh-so loves." I made a face and she laughed. "You look thinner, Cleon, but you've been horribly sick for nearly two days. That's no surprise."

"I see… two days?!"

"I didn't bawl for no reason," she muttered. "Keeper Marethari said your fever broke, but you were groaning and screaming in your sleep half a day longer. It was terrifying. The da'len were convinced you were being attacked by a monster and made all these little gifts to keep you safe and Master Ilen carved little weapons for your spirit to use to fight off whatever was plaguing you. They're there by the entrance. Hahren Paivel had to work really hard to keep the peace because Keeper Marethari was so busy and _everyone_ was worried about you. Even the halla. Maren had to work really hard to keep the halla calm, since they love you so much. Oh, and Merrill and I broke down twice each, once in public. You may thank Vinell for calming Merrill for you, by the way."

…Oh, Creators… "I have a lot to make up for, huh?"

"You know it. And before I forget to mention it, Ashalle sat right outside until Keeper Marethari announced that you should be fine and didn't budge one bit, and you know how her back still hurts from that tree incident!"

I winced at that. Ashalle was essentially my mother. I always went out of my way to not cause her distress, and what did I end up doing? "I'm sorry." No, that was too tame. I'd horribly hurt the clan. But what else could I say?

"Just… look, stand up and let me help you."

"All right."

It didn't take long for me to get dressed. It wasn't the first time Lyna helped me with it after all. We'd _both_ taken wounds in the past that made dressing difficult and saw nothing wrong with siblings helping each other. She remained behind to clean up the room as I stepped outside and breathed the fresh air. The Clan was bustling about as usual. No, with more fervor than usual. Was something wrong? Was it Tamlen? I'd need to find someone soon to ask.

Of course, I hadn't taken two steps before someone enveloped me in a hug. "You're awake." I would recognize that voice, and the hug, anywhere, even if it was thicker than usual because of crying. Ashalle. "Mythal, I thank you for hearing my prayer and protecting him."

"I'm sorry, Ashalle," I mumbled awkwardly, returning her hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, hush, and stop being so serious. No one in their right mind asks to be so ill, and I know you're in your right mind. Most days." She pulled away and started messing around with my clothes and hair. It was a habit of hers, to reassure herself that Lyna and me were okay after some sort of injury or illness. "Go walk around camp and let everyone that you're okay, will you?" She smiled at me, patting my cheek. "Start with Ilen. I swear; I don't think that man has _slept_ since you were brought back."

"He's working, right?" Not sleeping? But he _needed_ sleep for his crafting and… oh, he'd better not have nearly taken his fingers off again.

"Yes, so off you go." Nodding at her order, I kissed her cheek in farewell before making my way towards Master Ilen's work area. I thought about going straight there, but then decided to go the slightly longer way. More would see me that way.

Like Fenarel, who ambushed me with a hug as I passed by a group of hunters. "You're awake!" he laughed, beaming. "You had us all worried, you know."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "Really."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, no accidents on our end. We knew you'd feel horrible about it, so we took extra care." Oh, good. "You've the gods' own luck, lethalin."

"Or I just used up all that they allotted me."

"Stop being so serious." He laughed, but then he slung an arm over my shoulder to whisper, "Hey, there are hunters looking for Tamlen, but I think the Keeper is going to see if you and Merrill can check the ruins. Do you mind if I come along?"

"I'd welcome it," I replied. "But ask the Keeper first."

"I'll get on that. Don't leave until I come and let you know what she said?"

"Of course." I'd be busy for a while anyway.

"Cleon, over here!" I heard Junar call as Fenarel raced off. I almost asked why he wanted me near the area our hunters practiced their archery when I noticed the new face. "Come and greet our newest clan member!"

"Well, aneth ara, lethallin!" I laughed, walking up. I made sure to smile and move slowly. The elf looked like he was ready to bolt. "Stuck with Junar, then?"

"Haha, Cleon." Junar rolled his eyes. "Pol, this is Cleon, our best huntsman. He prefers knives to the bow, though."

"I'm not the best."

"One of the best."

"Junar, I will kick you." Junar laughed and I sighed. "Well, Pol, you all right?"

"Y-yeah," Pol squeaked. "Just a little nervous."

"What brought you to our Clan?"

"Uh… well, see, my brother and I were actually on our way to a wedding in the Denerim Alienage and… well, I decided that I wanted to live free among the Dalish, and, you know, not be trapped marrying a stranger, so I fled to the forest. And got lost."

"One of our hunters found him yesterday," Junar continued. "He's not bad. A couple of months and I think we can make him as good a hunter as anyone."

"Well, he does have the best teacher." Junar rolled his eyes at me and I laughed. "I'd stay to talk more, but I've rounds to make."

"That you do. You scared basically everyone."

"Right. Until later." I waved as I continued on my way to Master Ilen's work area.

Luckily for me, he wasn't in the middle of molding ironbark. It was _never_ wise to interrupt him then. "I'd heard you were awake!" he laughed, swinging over his workbench to clap me on the shoulder. "You had us worried."

"So I've been hearing," I replied, trying not to wince at the fresh bandages on his hands. He _had_ hurt himself.

"I bet you have. But you're going to have to go on a fetch quest for me later. My apprentices were so worried that they ruined a couple of bows."

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This was why I always took care to not get injured or sick in the first place! "I'm sorry."

"Well, if losing the bows meant we got to keep you, I don't mind." His smile faded. "I don't know what we'd do if we lost you, Cleon. Especially so suddenly. Your father's death… ah, you don't need to hear this from me." My father's unexpected death. That was the reason why everyone was so scared. They had all loved him and, because I was his son, they loved me. Only one person hadn't, at least enough to stay. My mamae had abandoned Lyna and me not long after giving birth. Everyone said she just broke when it was announced that my father was dead, dead from an _ambush_ of all things. My mother had called him out to tell him of her pregnancy and they'd… he gave his life to protect her. Her, one of the best hunters of the Elvhen, saved by the one she loved most. She was, apparently, never quite right after that, like she'd died with him and left to make it official or something strange like that. I wished she'd stayed a bit longer, though. Just enough for one memory. A memory of my own, not some… mess of impressions from stories. Father didn't have the choice. He'd left because it was impossible to heal his wounds in time. But she did. She _had_ that choice. And I really, really wished she'd chosen differently.

"I shall endeavor to not worry the Clan so much again," I promised, shaking the wishes out of my head. There was nothing to be done about them. "For now, though, I still have people to reassure."

"Yes, go on." His smile returned and he ruffled my hair. He had a habit of doing that when he was saying goodbye. "Try not to cause a stampede."

"Yes, sir." Right then, the next destination in camp would be… would be to go to the fire where Hahren Paivel was lecturing the da'len. Because I knew what was coming and I wanted to get it out of the way.

"Cleon!" some of the da'len called, racing up to hug my legs as I approached the central fire. That was where he always gave the lectures, and it wasn't far from Master Ilen's workplace. "Yay! You won!" "You beat the monsters!" "Knew you would!" "Cleon, can you play with us now?"

"Settle down," Hahren Paivel ordered. "Yes, it's good that Cleon is awake, but keep babbling all at once at him, and you might tire him too quickly." They quickly went back to their seats around the fire. "Talk among yourselves for a while, so that I can talk to Cleon." Yeah, 'talk'. I knew that look on his face. I was about to get a lecture. I always got lectures from him. Despite him being such good friends with my father, I never seemed to be able to measure up in his eyes.

"Yes, Hahren?" I whispered as the da'len obeyed. Here it comes.

"What were you two _thinking_, wandering into that cave?" He kept his tone civil and even, which made it all the worse. "Without even coming for the Keeper first."

"Well, Tamlen insisted and-"

"And you've no mind of your own?"

"He went ahead. Was I to leave him alone?"

"You are stronger, and taller, than him. You should've dragged him back." I winced. Yes, I should've done that. I _tried_ to do that in the end. I failed, miserably. "There are prices we will not pay for lore, and the lives of our hunters is one of them."

"He wanted to see if it was an elvish ruin."

"You still should've come back."

"…Yes, sir."

"Good that you are listening." And wanted to crawl into a hole. "Now then, what should we do as punishment, Marethari?" I turned to see the Keeper approaching with a soft smile. Of course, the soft smile meant nothing. She would often smile before giving you a lecture that made you feel like a two year old.

"I do not know, Paivel," she replied with a light laugh. "Another story study, and you might as well be training him to be your successor as hahren."

"I enjoy hunting, and Hahren Paivel will probably outlive me," I tried to joke. The joke fell flat at how close it had been. "I thank you, Keeper Marethari, for helping me."

"There's no need to thank me, Cleon. You know this." Did I ever. Keeper Marethari was somewhere between sister and mother to me. My father had treated her like his daughter before his death, and it was a relationship that bled over in her interactions with Lyna and me. "But he is right on a punishment. Paivel, perhaps you can come up with one after the lessons today? I need to speak to Cleon."

"Of course," Hahren Paivel replied, giving me a stern look. As always, I squirmed under it. Argh… what did I have to do to get some praise from him? I worked as hard as I could! I took my duties seriously! Yes, I slipped every so often, but… "Until then."

He walked away, and I found myself at the sole attention of Keeper Marethari. Joy of joys. "I am grateful Duncan found you when he did," she whispered. Duncan? An odd name. "A dark power held you and it took much of my magic to save you." I had a lot to repay, then. "Tell me. Did you see twisted creatures when you were in the ruins?"

"No, none," I answered honestly. "We saw nothing alive, once we entered." Just a very, very strange mirror.

"You are certain? No strange thing?"

"No." Wait, no, there was… "No, wait, there was something strange. When Tamlen and I find that mirror, there was a wolf. Then a Spirit."

"A mirror? Wolf and Spirit?" She sighed heavily. "I have never heard of such things in the lore we've collected." So, Tamlen and I _did_ stumble on something important. "I had hoped for answers, but it seems the Creators wished for more questions instead."

"Abelas, Keeper."

"No, do not apologize. I am merely worried." She sighed again. "Tamlen remains missing, as I'm sure you've heard. He is more important than any sort of lore, and if his condition is anything like yours, then the situation is grave."

"I'm prepared to go back to the ruin," I answered immediately.

"Are you certain you're well enough?"

"Always."

"I'm relieved to hear that." She smiled, but it soon fell. "You must move quickly, though. I've ordered the camp to pack up, so that we can move north."

"What for?"

"The nearby humans are making a fuss." …Of course they were. "Did you and Tamlen…?"

"We encountered some, threatened them, but ultimately let them go." And what did they do? Make a fuss anyway.

"That is the way of things, sometimes. We would've had to move soon anyway, due to the Blight." She patted my shoulder even as I tried to remember what a 'Blight' was. I could only remember that it had something to do with the Wardens. Hahren Paivel had starting telling stories of the warriors and their deeds recently. "Find Merrill and head off. Behave."

"Yes, Keeper."

"Until you return, da'len." I bowed in respect, before walking away, hunting around for where Merrill would be waiting. As I hunted, though, I noticed something peculiar. The halla were all staring at me, looking troubled over something.

"Maren, is everything all right with the halla?" I asked as I finally gave in and approached where they were grazing. "There's not an illness or something, is there?"

"No, not at the moment," Maren replied, as she set about soothing her charges. She was the one who tended to our halla, an important job. "No, they are just quite nervous. They sense something we can't see." She looked to me. "They're worried about you still. Are you truly well?"

"I feel it," I answered. "I'm more tired, yes, but otherwise…"

"I see. Maybe it's just leftover, then. They were all afraid that some trick would take you away." What trick? "Ah, but please, don't let me keep you. Merrill is just over there, by the aravel."

"Thanks." I smiled and waved a goodbye as I walked away. Let's see… providing Maren wasn't playing a trick on me, then…

"Oh! Cleon!" Ah, and there was Merrill. She looked _wonderful_, just as always. "There you are! Are you all right? I mean; you look all right, more than all right… um… wait, that wasn't what I…"

"Hey to you too," I laughed softly, smiling at her. "Sorry to worry you."

"I knew you would be fine. Well, I hoped it really hard, so I pretended I knew. I think the Keeper would scold me for that, though." She giggled and smiled back. "I'm glad I was right, though. It's been a long two days."

"Well, what can I do to make it up?"

"Um… well…"

I laughed and brushed a quick kiss over her mouth. "Does that help?"

"Oh, yes. Quite." She was blushing, but still smiling. "Perhaps anoth-?"

"Do I need to make another round through camp to give you some time alone?" Fenarel asked dryly as he approached. I mimed a blow at him and he laughed. "Seriously, should I? I know how a promised couple can be."

"No," I sighed. Right, Fenarel had been married for almost as long as Tamlen had. "Tamlen's been alone for two days."

"Right, so we must go immediately," Merrill agreed. "Cleon and I can be alone later. Hopefully. I'd like that, at least."

"Well, I'll do my part and help you two out," Fenarel laughed. "Oh, don't make that face, Merrill. Keeper Marethari gave me permission. So let's find our wayward friend. If we leave now, we'll have him back home before the sun rests!"

Creators, please let that be the case. Please…

* * *

"Well, here it is," I told them quietly as we approached the ruins. My instincts were screaming even louder this time. "The room we're looking for is deep inside it."

"Oh, what are those things at the entrance?" Fenarel asked. I almost demanded what he was talking about, but then I saw the corpses. I'd never seen such twisted creatures before. They were definitely of different, yet similar, race, though. Most looked as if they'd been felled by blade, but one, farther away from the others, looked as if it had been attacked with magic. Quite violently too. What sort of sick mind killed like that?

"They're quite unusual," Merrill commented, kneeling down to get a closer look. I immediately dragged her back up. "Cleon?" I didn't answer, just stared at the blood. "Cleon?"

"There's… sorry, instinct," I murmured. The blood… something was wrong about that blood. It made me sick to look at. "They weren't there before."

"I see. Well, Tamlen's not near."

"Then let's head in and get out."

"All right." She studied me closely before shyly kissing my cheek. "You okay?"

"Well, if I wasn't before…"

"So, any traps I need to be aware of while you two flirt?" Fenarel asked dryly as he went on ahead.

"Not if we go the route Tamlen and I did," I sighed, making a face at him. He laughed. "Come on. I'll lead."

"If you say… wow, I don't blame Tamlen for wanting to explore."

"I do."

"Well, yeah, in retrospect."

"Step where I do, please."

Everything was just as it had been before. The same broken doors. The same crumbling walls. The same twisting trees. Every so often, though, I caught something that I thought might be different, and wondered if it was a result of whatever it was that had carried me back to the entrance.

"I hear something," Fenarel whispered. I nearly jumped at the sound. He and Merrill had been perfectly silent as I led the way. "How close are we?"

I glanced around. "Around this corner, we'll see the statue that marks the door," I answered.

"I'll peek around the corner then, just in case." At my nod, he did just that. "Well, there's a young girl standing there. Can't see much, other than she's wearing some odd clothes for traveling, has some blood on the bottom of her dress, and her hair is a slightly redder version of Lyna's."

"Elf?"

"Nah, shem'len."

"I suppose it is heartwarming to see that there are yet shem'len willing to risk a slow death for treasure."

"Wait, hold on," Merrill mumbled, peering around Fenarel. "Oh, Cleon, go up and thank her."

What? "For…?"

"She's the one who healed you." Oh. Oh, and she was pouting. "So, go thank her." Welp, I was definitely going to. Honestly, the worst thing Merrill could do to anyone was make those frowny faces.

"Is someone there?" someone called then. I assumed it was the shem'len girl. Her accent was very odd, and sounded quite shaken. "Hello?"

"We're just looking for someone," Merrill answered, stepping out with a smile. She was always one to trust blindly. "Hello again."

"Oh, you are the girl who demanded to know what happened to her lover!" Well, that was fun to note. "You did not come alone, did you?"

"No, there are two others." She pouted at Fenarel and me. "Please come out before I embarrass myself further?"

"I don't see why not," Fenarel laughed, dragging me with him. "Why are you here, girl?"

"Oh, I am glad to see you are on your feet," the girl said, _completely_ ignoring Fenarel's question to focus on me. "You were in quite the bad state. Are you feeling well? You probably should not have been walking such a distance."

"You… could answer my friend's question," I replied slowly. She talked fast, and was strangely bubbly for this place. She also looked incredibly relieved. What had shaken her so much?

"Eh? Oh! I am so sorry! My deepest apologies! Ah, how could I be so rude?" She was… actually flailing. How old was she? "What was the question again, Ser? I really am sorry."

"Just what are you doing here?" Fenarel repeated, smiling in stunned amusement. I agreed with him. _Never_ had I met a shem'len like her.

"Oh, Commander Duncan wanted to check this place over for anyone we missed last time. I heard the sound of glass breaking just a few seconds ago, so I believe he destroyed the mirror inside. I hope he does not get seven years of bad luck."

"Destroy…?" Merrill repeated, eyes widening. "But… but that's a piece of our heritage!"

"One that you would be better off forgetting." _That_ voice belonged to the armored shem'len who stepped out of the room. Mirror shards clung to his armor, but he casually brushed them off. "The last that I heard of these, they were in Imperium care."

"But…"

"Commander Duncan, it _is_ important to them," the shem'len girl pointed out, bending down to pick up a shard. "Well, it is impossible to repair a mirror, but perhaps you can find out something from the pieces." Without fear, she ran up and placed a shard in Merrill's hands. "Shall I find you more?"

"No, this… will hopefully be enough."

"Regardless, we still have hunting to do," I pointed out, shoving aside my unease at the shard in Merrill's hand. I would forever hate mirrors, I think, from this point on. Especially mirrors in ruins.

"Yeah, for Tamlen," Fenarel added, likely clarifying for the two shem'len.

"I'm afraid there is nothing that can be done for your friend." Everything froze with the armored shem'len's words. "We are the only living things in this ruin. We checked every inch of it. He is gone." …Wha…? No, I had to be hearing wrong. Nothing I could do for him? He was gone? Tamlen? Tamlen, my best friend, my brother? _Gone_? I couldn't accept that. I _wouldn't_ accept it. Tamlen… Tamlen had to be…!

The world swirled with my thoughts and it took a moment to realize it was because I was dizzy and was losing my balance. "Cleon!" That was Merrill. She sounded worried. Again. I was worrying her _again_. "Oh, I knew you were pushing yourself too much! I should've made you rest back at the entrance. Cleon, emma lath, let's head back before you collapse."

"Tamlen," I whispered, shaking my head to try and focus. "I have to find…"

"There's nothing to be done for your friend and if you're not careful, there will be nothing that can be done for _you_," the armored shem'len countered. He had a hand on the girl shem'en's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I wanted to protest, but there was something in that shem'len's old eyes that told me that there would be no point to it. There really _wasn't_ anything to do for Tamlen except… except… Oh, Lyna, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but I… I failed to protect…

Ah, Creators, I wish you would return so that I could ask why Tamlen had to… to _die_ like this. Just _why_?

* * *

I was feeling _physically_ better when we returned to the camp. Mentally, though, I would freely admit, at least to myself, that I was a wreck. Tamlen was gone. I had _failed_ to save him. Those screams… they must have been his. He'd been so afraid and those _screams_…

The Keeper was waiting for us, right on the edge of the camp. "I'm relieved to see you all returned," she greeted. "I did not, however, expect to see you so soon, Duncan."

"Yes, neither of us were expecting to return quite so soon," the armored shem'len replied respectfully. His girl companion smiled and curtseyed at the Keeper. Well, at least they knew to show respect.

"Quite." She focused on me. "Dare I ask about Tamlen?" I shook my head in reply. I couldn't voice it. "I see." She closed her eyes and worked on keeping her calm. "What of the mirror?"

"I destroyed it," the armored shem answered. "You have darkspawn in your woods, by the way." Darkspawn? Were those the strange creatures at the entrance?

"…I see." She opened her eyes again, and she looked incredibly weary suddenly. "Merrill, why don't you take the young mage here and give her a couple of our potion remedies, as thanks for earlier?" Merrill nodded and quickly took the girl by the hand to lead her away. Likely, Merrill was going to babble about magic to her. She didn't have many she could talk to about magic, after all. "Fenarel, please go inform Paivel of the events, and then warn the hunters about the darkspawn." Fenaral nodded, bowed, and raced off. "Now then, Duncan. What you spoke of… has it…?"

"Yes, it has." Huh? "He is infected with the Taint. There is only one cure for that, as I told you."

"Yes, I know."

"What's going on?" I asked softly. "I'm confused, Keeper."

"The Darkspawn Taint courses through your veins," the shem explained. "That you recovered at all is remarkable, but it is a temporary thing. It will eventually sicken and kill you. The Wardens have a way to prevent that, but it means joining us."

…What? "And I don't suppose you could just give me the cure and I go about frolicking through the forests?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Keeper?" I turned to her. She refused to look at me. "Keeper, please tell me…"

"I can see no other way, Cleon," she whispered. "You can stay, of course. It would mean slow death, though. I can only treat the symptoms of the Taint. I cannot cure them."

This was not happening."Might I…?" My voice cracked. My throat was dry. "Might I have a bit of time to…?"

"I can give you into morning," the shem answered. Morning. Right. Morning. I could totally process everything and make a decision by… oh, what was the point of lying to myself?

"Can you not wait longer?" Keeper Marethari asked softly. Yes, more time would be _lovely_.

But the shem shook his head. "I had hoped to be in Denerim by now, actually," he explained. "The child of someone I tried to recruit before is of age now, and I'd like to see if he inherited his mother's skills." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I… we're running out of time. All of us are. I _need_ more recruits to try and make up for low numbers, and I need them quickly." He sounded tired. How old was he anyway? "Whatever is chosen, I will abide by it. I lingered only because I wanted to make sure he had a choice if he was Tainted, and to see if I could find your missing hunter."

"I see." She closed her eyes. I knew she was holding back a sigh. "I should've listened that first time. But I had so hoped…"

"I'll have an answer by then." I tried to make my voice confident as I interrupted, but it was not only weak, it shook. "I promise," I continued. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But neither would solve this. Just had to accept it.

"I'm sorry you have to give one," he told me. "I'm so sorry."

"…You apologized for it already, didn't you? I… I vaguely remember…"

"I thought I sensed it then, yes. Why don't you go and try to think things through?"

"Yeah. Sure." Even if it was at the suggestion of a shem'len, it was good advice, so I took it and walked away. Everything that had happened… well, that could all wait. There was a decision to be made, one that didn't require processing of the past. There were only two options, after all, and I only had a short time to choose. Shove everything to the side. Shove what happened aside and focus on the two options and _pick_.

Stay and die, or leave and live. Stay among the people I loved and cared for and die a slow death or leave everything I have ever known, possibly to never see them again, and live a life I never wanted, or would _ever_ want.

Well, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to stay and live. That wasn't an option. And… and this decision wouldn't just affect me. It would affect the people around me, some more than others. In fact… in fact, this shouldn't be made without input from one of the people who would be affected the _most_. So, as I tried to get all my thoughts in order, I hunted for Merrill. It wasn't hard. She was, as expected, near Keeper Marethari's tent to set up preparations.

"Oh, Cleon!" she greeted me with a sad smile. The shem'len girl was nowhere near. Where had she gone? "Already done with the talk? I thought it would go longer."

"Yeah…" I mumbled. Creators… Creators, how was I…?

"Cleon? What's wrong? Oh, the Keeper didn't scold you, did she? Do that scary frowny thing that turns your bones to jelly?"

"I wish. I could handle that." I sighed. "Merrill, mind coming with me so that we're not overheard?"

"Of course not." She gently took one of my hands and studied my face. "Cleon, you look like you're going to cry."

"Well, I feel like it, but… come on, I don't want the clan overhearing this. That… that shem'len brought some news."

"All right." She tugged me over to the woods nearby, away from where everyone was gathering. "I like that girl. She's sweet. Though she had no idea what a squirrel was. I guess that means her companion doesn't have one stuck to his chin, huh?"

"Shem'len sometimes grow hair on their face. Well, the male ones. That was in the talks about them."

"Well, yes, I know that. But if you saw that, wouldn't you think that a squirrel was attached?"

"Never known a squirrel to be so still."

"Oh. Right. Oops." She giggled before turning to face me. By this point, we were only within shouting distance of the Clan. "So, what's wrong?"

"I…" I sighed, let go of her hand, and leaned back on a tree. "Well, I'm dying."

She stared for a moment. "Cleon, that's not very funny."

"It's not supposed to be."

"The Keeper said you were fine, though."

"She was wrong. I just didn't die to the first bout."

"Well, we'll look up the cure."

"There's only one."

"Okay, then we'll get it to you."

"That's the problem."

"What problem? Cleon, you know I'm stubborn."

"That shem'len offered the cure, but it comes at a bit of a price."

"I'm sure we can figure out how to pay. What are those silly coins they use again?"

"Not that sort of price." We were talking so fast. This was normal for her, though. Merrill would always talk fast when nervous or scared. Sometimes, she'd even babble.

"Well, what sort of price, Cleon?"

"I'd have to leave."

She was silent, just staring. It was like someone had punched her. I guess I sorta had. "Why?" she whispered. "Why would you…?"

"The only 'cure' is to become a Warden, apparently," I mumbled. "You know the stories. Hahren Paivel once told us about them, remember?"

She nodded. "You'd have to leave." Her voice was still so soft. "If you're going to live, you'd have to leave."

"Yes."

She was silent for a bit longer. "What… what do you want to do?"

"Well, I don't want to die and I don't want to leave. That option is no longer viable, though."

"I… I see." She was shaking now. I pulled her into a hug without thinking about it. "…I want you to live."

"Even if it means leaving?"

"Y-yes… I… I want you to _live_, Cleon. I can… I can handle not seeing you, if I know you're somewhere alive."

"Okay."

"Is that what you want? Is that okay with you? I'll do anything for you, Cleon, so…"

"Like I said, I want to live and stay. I can't do both, so I have to pick. If you pick that option, then I'll… I'll be okay with it."

"…All right…" She was still shaking as she twisted her fingers into my shirt. "Okay."

"What… do you want to do about…?" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"…Can… well, if you find someone you like, or just want to take up with, I don't want you to _not_, since it's a bunch of new things and…" She almost fell into her babbling, but her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. "But… but I don't… I don't want anything _final_ until…"

"We meet again?" She nodded. "I… can agree to that. I don't know when…" If ever.

"I can wait. I'm good at that."

"But if you find someone who makes you happy, don't let my memory hold you back." The words were hard to say. "If there's a person you fall in love with, or just…" What phrase did she _just_ use? "Take up with, don't hold back on my account."

"I… I think this is what Lyna would call an… 'open relationship?" We both burst into giggles at the attempt of a joke, even though it wasn't funny at all. "Oh… um… do… do you want your token b-back?"

"Only if you feel the need." I didn't want it back. I didn't want the necklace I'd carved for her. That would be too… too final. I didn't want finality. Not yet.

"I'd like to keep it, if you don't mind. It… it reminds me that a wonderful man loved me, and… and might come back."

"'Loves' you," I corrected instantly. "I haven't _stopped_ and I won't ever."

"Cleon…" Her breath hitched again, but she tried to keep herself from crying. "Oh, I need to give you a gift for when you leave."

"I don't need one, Merrill. I wear your token too, you know." Please don't ask for it back. Please don't ask for this ring back. Even if we were… ah… 'opening' the relationship, I still wanted to pretend…

"Well, yes, but that's just to remind you that there's a silly little girl who's madly in love with you and is waiting." She gave me a shaky smile. I did my best to return it. "I need to give you a gift as a friend, and as the First, too. Please? It's… it's the only way I can…"

"Whatever it is, I will carry it gladly." Without thinking about it, I made to kiss her. I checked the motion, only for her to kiss me. It was desperate, longing, and filled with everything she wanted to say, but couldn't voice. I returned it with my own unsaid feelings. Sometimes, actions were better than words, anyway.

* * *

Merrill went back to her preparations. I went to find the other two people who I knew, without a doubt, I had to tell. My twin and my mother deserved to hear what would happen from me, not the Keeper.

Lyna was the first one I found. I wasn't sure if I was happy about that or not.

"There you are," she mumbled, grabbing my arm. As usual, she managed to sneak up on me. She was good at being stealthy. "Merrill can have you back tonight, but I need my big brother for a bit."

…Ow, ow, why did Lyna _always_ manage to make things hurt the worst when she wasn't even trying? "Well, I have something I need to tell you anyway," I told her.

"You do? …Oh, you do. I don't like that look, either. This isn't going to be good."

"Nope."

"Ugh… okay, okay. Let's just hide behind the trees here…" She quickly tugged me back into the woods I'd just left. Both she and Lyna preferred the woods for secrets. The trees couldn't talk, after all. "Okay. Just be your normal blunt self. Talking around the bush will only make things-"

"I'm leaving," I whispered. Three… two… one…

"What? No!" she protested immediately. I knew she would. "No, no, no. I just lost Tamlen, Cleon. This is a cruel joke."

"You know me, Lyna, better than anyone."

"No. No, it's a joke. A mean and bad one. It has to be. You are _not_ leaving me. You're not leaving Merrill. You're not leaving Ashalle. You're not leaving the Clan. You are _not_!"

"Don't yell. You'll stress-"

"Then take back the joke!" Tears were streaming down her face. She knew. She knew, but she didn't want to accept. She'd wanted the bad news to be something else. Anything else. "Take it back!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if I stay, I'll die." She froze at that, just staring. Just staring at me with those broken blue eyes still crying bitterly. "That illness I got? That's just the _beginning_, Lyna. I'm all right now, but I'll eventually get back to that state, and worse. It's death, a slow death."

"I… but…" She covered her face with her hands. "What about… about Merrill?"

"We came to the decision together."

"And your promise?"

"We… decided to hold onto the items, but wait to decide if it's one we still want to pursue when we next meet."

"So… so, you can't just… just get the cure or whatever and come back?"

"No. That doesn't seem to be the case. I will leave the Clan."

I waited as she continued silently crying. I knew that she was trying to do what I still hadn't. Process everything. "You… you will come back," she muttered after a moment.

"I just said-"

"No, you will." She dropped her hands to reveal a tearful glare. "You will survive this and you will come back, at some point, to check on me and see your nephew or niece. You _will_."

"I…" I couldn't help but smile. This was just like her. "Yes, I promise to not die. You could've just asked."

"I… I wouldn't be 'me' if I did."

"True." I used my sleeve to dry her tears. "Lyna, don't stress. You know I keep my promises."

"Which is why I make sure I force you to make them." She grabbed me in a hug. "So, you have to survive, no matter what, until we meet again."

"At which point, you'll extract another promise out of me."

"Well, duh." I could feel her trying to calm down. She'd probably bawl again later, during the funeral, but she would try to be dignified until that point. "I'm staying with you tonight, okay?"

"Of course."

"Okay." She stepped back and roughly rubbed at her eyes. "I'll find you during the funeral. You and Merrill."

"Okay." She nodded, avoided looking me in the eye, and ran off to continue preparations.

I was trying to decide which direction to begin my hunt for Ashalle when a small hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see it was that shem'len mage from before. The one I… should know the name of. She'd given it to me. I could remember that, now. Of course, I couldn't remember what it _was_, though. Typical. "Commander Duncan and I will be camping nearby," she explained. "He said we would be by in the morning, for something. He did not explain it well. I think he is really tired."

I could see that. I saw it before. "…Do you mind giving him a message in return?"

"I will be delighted."

Well, this was it. "Tell him that I will accept his offer of recruitment." There, polite enough. Maybe.

"Oh, so that is what this is about?" She smiled warmly. "He is quite silly sometimes, rather like Irving. I will let him know immediately, and look forward to traveling with you." She skipped off and I watched her go. Well, that was it. Official. Now I just had to find Ashalle…

Except she found me. I turned around and suddenly she was right there, looking so sad. I tried to say something, but before I could get one word out, she hugged me tightly. "You'll be leaving, yes?" she whispered. "Please, I don't want to watch you die."

"So, you already know?" I mumbled, leaning into the hug. "How?"

"Keeper Marethari told Paivel and me, just in case. We were to go hunt for the Warden and beg him for help if you didn't wake up."

"I'm not worth begging."

"You're worth anything to me, da'len." She pulled back and cupped my face in her hands. "You are my pride and joy, just as Lyna. What's a little pleading compared to making sure you live and continue to be the young man I am so proud of?"

"…Ashalle…"

"You'll be a wonderful Warden, Cleon. You'll do us all proud, just as you always have."

"I'll try, Ashalle. I'll try."

"I know." She hugged me again. "Come now. Let's say goodbye to Tamlen."

"Right."

She took my hand and tugged me to the center fire. The Clan was gathering now. Many people were crying. Not a surprise. Idiot though he was, Tamlen had been well loved. The da'len were looking incredibly confused, but that was to be expected. It had been a long, long time since our last funeral. The Dalish did not die easily, after all.

"Cleon, there you are," Hahren Paivel called, walking around the fire to my side. "Are you up for a song?" Singing was customary for our Rites. While Hahren Paivel would sing for Uthenara, family and friends would add their own little songs, to… to celebrate the life that was lost. How sad he looked. Then again, I wasn't surprised. Hahren Paivel had been around when many of us were just babes in arms. Yet, here he was, singing a dirge for one of them.

"I can do a short piece," I whispered. Ashalle squeezed my hand encouragingly. "Just a short one."

"Of course." He pulled me into a hug. I was _really_ startled by it. He'd never done that before. "You will do well in the outside world. You are a true Dalish, and are the pride of our Clan. If someone must leave to save the world from shadows, then you are the best choice."

…That… this was the first time he'd ever… "Ma serannas, Hahren." Ah, I was crying. "Ma serannas." Of course. Of course, the night before I left, I got the praise from the _one_ person I wanted it from. Typical. But, I couldn't help but be happy for it.

"Come then. Let's send Tamlen off properly."

* * *

By morning, everyone had heard. I was leaving. I wasn't sure if they knew the true reason or not. I didn't have a chance to ask.

"You're wearing your necklace, right?" Lyna asked as we walked to the edge of camp. I could already see the group gathered there. Everyone was there.

"Of course I'm wearing it," I retorted. The wooden beaded necklace was literally all I had of Father.

"Right… right, that was a really stupid question."

"It's okay. You're talking because you won't be able to in a bit."

"As always, you know me best." She grabbed me in a hug, kissed my cheek, and stepped to the side to allow another of the Clan to grasp my hands in silent farewell. Everyone did so. Ashalle, who gave me a small hunting knife to keep me safe. Master Ilen, who slipped some coins into my palm from his last trading excursion with the shem'len. Maren, who gifted me a small figurine carved from a halla horn. Fenarel, with a small pack of seeds to remind me of the forest. Variel, Junar, Vinell, Terath, Ineria, Radha, Chandan, Harshal… even Pol silently bid me farewell with tiny, mostly symbolic gifts.

"This is something I've been holding on for you," Hahren Paivel told me softly when I approached him. He pressed something wooden in my hand. Wait, no, it was a frame. A frame with… "I drew this a long time ago, to help ease the pain of your father's passing." My parents. A picture of my parents. I'd never seen them before. "I drew it and hid it away. I found it recently. It was supposed to be a birthday present, but… well, it seems more appropriate now." He smiled at me. "They look over you, but I bet it would be easier to see if you knew what they looked like."

"…Ma serranas," I whispered, worried that I'd start crying. It was getting difficult to hold everything. So many goodbyes…

And the next person was Merrill. She was silent as she handed me gloves. Good leather gloves, with tiny patterns of leaves and vines. I could sense the magic in it. She must've worked all night on it. I brushed a hand over her cheek without really thinking about it. She leaned into the touch and smiled. There was nothing more to be said. If I tried, I'd probably stay, and that would be…

"Cleon." Keeper Marethari's voice was soft, but commanding. She knew that I was wavering. "Here," she whispered when I turned to her. She pressed a bracelet into my hand. I recognized it instantly. "Take this."

"My father gave this to you," I protested. "It's important."

"He gave me many things. Some to help with my duties, and others to remind me of lessons. This bracelet… there was a time I thought of leaving the Clan, because I did not feel up to the duties given to me. He gave me it to remind me that I am loved, and I have a family who will always be there for me, no matter where I go. I ended up staying, but wore this to remember the lesson. And I give it to you, because you need the reminder more than I do." She smiled. "Go now, Cleon, and may the Dread Wolf never hear your steps. Be strong and brave. The Creators have chosen a new path for you for a reason. Find it."

"I'll try, Keeper." Of course, considering that said path was apparently leading away from everything I've ever cared about, I hoped the Creators didn't mind me being a little miffed. More than a little, actually.

Still, there was nothing to be done. It was what it was, and the choice was made. So, I bowed to the Keeper and walked away, up the hill to where the two shem'len were waiting for me. The armored one only acknowledged me with a nod and sad smile before leading the way to wherever we were going. The girl, though, waited until I was right next to her before moving, making an effort for our paces to match.

"Commander Duncan told me the reason why you are coming with us," she whispered after a moment. "I am a healer, so if you are in pain, please let me know."

"What happens if I don't?" I asked sourly.

"I will pout. Anders told me it is quite devastating." She smiled, completely ignoring my not-quite-cooperative mood. "Also, I will ambush you. Wynne taught me very well on how to deal with uncooperative patients. She also mentioned ways to slip sleeping potions without the patient knowing."

What? "You're… joking, right?"

"A Spirit Healer must take her duties very seriously." At this point, she was sounding like Lyna when it came to being a hunter. "I would not be happy about it, though. So, please, let me know?"

"I… fine. Fine."

"Thank you very much, Ser Mahariel!"

"Cleon. Call me Cleon."

"If that is your wish, Cleon. Please, call me Layla."

Oh, things were just going to be weird from now on, weren't they? Just… great. Fantastic. Wonderful. Creators, just… _why_?

* * *

Author's note: All right. Dalish origin done! Yes, I expanded this part… a lot. Might've actually went overboard on the drama and the like. ...Sorry... Well, I felt sad you couldn't do like proper goodbyes to anyone, so… and then it went and kept… okay, this part is why Dalish was split into two, as you can tell by length. Oh dear god, the length.  
This is the last origin that will be told entirely from one POV, by the way. City Elf and Human Noble will be split into two parts, each one a different POV.

Next Chapter – uh… well, it's a traveling chapter. Layla's POV. Have fun? (I'm sorry. I'm adding these ones for more char interactions)


	7. Chapter 6) Road to Denerim

**Chapter 6) On the Road to Denerim**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_I would spend quite a bit of time reading while growing up. Sometimes, it was just to study, but other times, it was for fun. I would read of strange things. There were things called 'sheep' and 'carriages'. _

_Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like to see those strange things I read of in the books. But then I remembered that doing so would mean leaving the Tower, which I did not want to do. So I contented myself with my imagination. It was more than enough for me._

* * *

"Cleon, what is that?"

"A sheep."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"A carriage."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"An orchard."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"Why do you keep asking me? _You're_ the shem!"

"Oh, but I lived in the tower for the past ten years. So, what is that?"

"A monkey's uncle."

"Do monkeys have uncles?"

"…You need to not believe everything someone tells you. That was a joke."

"Oh. I am sorry."

"For what?"

"I did not get the joke."

"…You're impossible."

"Considering that I am alive, I would argue that I am _quite_ possible."

"Not what I meant!" I winced at his shout and he softened near immediately with a grumble. "Don't pout. Please, don't pout."

"Why? Are they as devastating as Anders says?"

"I feel like I accidentally kicked a baby halla. No, seriously, stop pouting."

I endeavored to obey as we continued walking down the road behind Commander Duncan. After all, I _was_ trying my best to not annoy him as we traveled. Unfortunately, that was all I seemed to do. My questions wore on his nerves. My constant _tripping_ drove him mad! I wished desperately to know how exactly to talk to him. He was unlike anyone I had seen before, and he reacted like none of the mages or templars I had met.

…Okay, perhaps the constant questions were horribly annoying. But I was nervous and scared and I was trying to get some semblance of normality. I would ask many, _many_ questions back at the Tower. Learning was normal. Learning was more than normal, even. It was my life for ten years!

So, after a moment of silence, I went back to my questions. "Do all you Dalish have those accents?" I asked.

"What accents?" he asked back. "You're the one with the accent."

"I am not! It is everyone else that sounds strange."

"By my ear, both of you sound foreign," Commander Duncan interrupted with an amused smile.

"I was born in these lands," Cleon protested.

"But you live separately from the rest of Fereldan, taking on the accent of those around you."

"That… how would you know something like that?"

"I used to live on the streets, Cleon. You learned a lot about people there."

"I see." The look he gave me implied he did not, however. That was fine, though. I did not get it either. "So, Layla, where are _you_ from?"

"I was born in Kirkwall. It is in the Free Marches."

"Near Sundermount," he added. "I know it well. That is one of our sacred sites. Quite a distance, though."

"I was sent to the Circle Tower in Fereldan upon discovering my magic."

"Why? Were there too many and not enough?"

"I do not know. Why would that matter?"

"It is what the Dalish do. That's how Merrill joined the Sabrae, actually." His face softened when he mentioned the name. "There were no children with the gift of magic, and her old Clan had three, so she was sent to be Keeper Marethari's First."

"So, we are not so different, then."

"We are _completely_ different!" …I was failing to see how. "We honor our Keepers and look to them for guidance. Magic is not something to be feared, but respected, and we don't lock up our mages."

"The Circle is not as bad as you are claiming."

He had quite the sour look on his face now. "Your own people hunt you down like a rabid animal gone rampant for something you're born with. Those _templars_ of yours-"

"The templars protect mages too."

"How? By killing them?"

"I will not make a generalization like a child and state that all templars are evil just because there are those who delight in abusing their authority." I gave him my best glare. "There are some good templars."

He looked so incredulous. "You, by the way, have the ferocity of a kitten with that glare." Oh, but it was my best glare! "Give me an example, then. I'll wait however long-"

"There is no need, for I can name one instantly," I retorted. "His name was Ser Maurevar Carver, stationed at the Gallows in Kirkwall. He saved me when my father attempted to kill me for being another mage child, and guarded me until I left for Fereldan." He looked stunned. "What is it? Are you so surprised I could think of one so quick-"

"Your _father_ tried to kill you?" He was startled by that? "Your own father?"

"Yes, that is something many mages face."

"…Your people are ridiculous," he hissed after a moment. "Parents killing children out of fear of what they were born with… that's just madness."

"Is there not a case of that happening among the Dalish?"

"No." That was a quick reply. "We honor our clans and families. We are all each other have." He also just left them behind…

It was time for a slight change in subject, then. "You mentioned magic was respected by your people?"

"Huh? Ah, yes." He looked startled by the question. "We do."

"Do not the non-mages grow jealous or fearful?"

"What need is there for it? The Keepers practice magic to help and defend the Clan, learn the old histories, and mediate judgments for the people. But they cannot craft a bow or hunt in the teachings of Andruil." He smiled softly. "Everyone has their place and everyone has their duties. Everyone is unique and, thus, everyone has a unique job only they can do. That is what Hahren Paivel taught us da'len."

Was that true? "I rather like that." It made me hopeful for my own dream of a world of peace between mages and non-mages. After all, if it could work in a smaller scare, then it should not be difficult to make it work on a larger one. "Though, I cannot say I like where you all lived all that much."

"What's wrong with the forest?"

"I went from a city of chains to a tower in the middle of a lake. What do you _think_ is wrong?"

"You didn't even see the sylvans, though."

"What are sylvans?"

"Spirits trapped in trees. Causes them to walk. We had to be _very_ careful about how we frolicked about. They would get so jealous and angry at us."

"You are joking."

"Nope. Swear to the Creators, I'm not!"

"Oh, I _really_ hate that forest now! It is unnatural!"

"Nice to hear the two of you are getting along," Commander Duncan called back. "I had a bit of worries, but I see there was nothing to fear."

"For now, at least," Cleon muttered. "You've seen sylvans, right?"

"I've heard of them."

"I still do not believe either of you," I mumbled, right before I tripped, yet again. "Ack!"

Cleon caught me, like he had the past two thousand times. "So, Duncan, you mentioned growing up on the streets?" he asked. I nearly gasped at how rude he was being.

Thankfully, Commander Duncan did not seem to mind. "Yes, my parents died when I was small," he explained. "So I was a street rat. Thief, and quite the good one, if I do say so myself. I'm Fereldan by birth, though."

"W-where were you born, exactly?" I asked hesitantly. I did not realize he did not mind questions. I would have thought for certain he would not answer any!

"Highever." He stopped in the road and pointed into the distance. "It's far to the north. We'll visit it after Denerim. It's a lovely place. My mother didn't mind living there at all, though it was far from her native Rivain."

"So, how does a thief from this Highever place become a Warden?" Cleon asked.

"Well, it's simple enough," he replied. "I attempted to steal from one. I won't bore you with the long chain of events that followed, though." So, he stole from the Wardens and they later made him Commander? The Wardens were very strange indeed. "Now then, if you look up at the horizon, you'll find our destination in the distance."

I looked up and hunted, but it still took a bit to find the hazy city. It certainly looked quite lovely from here, though. "How much longer?" I whispered.

"Another day or two at most. We'll be resting in an inn tonight."

"Why an inn?" Cleon grumbled. "What's wrong with camping?"

"It is uncomfortable," I mumbled. "The ground is hard and moist. The bugs get _everywhere_. The wind is cold and blustering."

"That's why you make a shelter."

"I do not know how." Commander Duncan never even tried during the times we had camped on the way to the forest. Then again, if he spent his childhood on the streets, then perhaps he was used to these things.

"I'll teach you, next time we camp."

"Then, in return, I shall teach you how to stay in an inn. It is quite complicated, or so I have read."

"Oh, joy of joys. I'm _so_ looking forward to it."

"I am too!" He gave me a look. "Oh, you were joking." Oh, how embarrassing. "Um… Cleon, what is that?"

"Oh, not again!"

* * *

The inn was noisy when we entered. I noticed some of the men staring at me for some reason and stepped closer to Cleon. I did not like this place at all.

"You two look at the board here and pick out something to eat," Commander Duncan ordered. "I'll see about getting us some rooms."

"Yes, sir," I mumbled as he walked away. Oh, I wanted out of here so badly.

"Still enjoying the thought of an inn?" Cleon teased as we carefully made our way towards the large board with writing on it. I hoped it was all food. I did not recognize many of the dishes at all.

"I enjoy the thought of a real bed," I replied dignifiedly. "I do not enjoy the strange stares."

"Strange…?" He looked around, frowned, and pulled me in front of him. "Stay near me."

"Well, of course, I am. Why would you insist?"

"I don't trust shem'len."

"What is a 'shem'len' exactly?"

"It is our word for human."

"I am human."

"Not totally convinced on that." Huh? "You make too much sense."

"Pardon?"

"What is a shepherd's pie?" He pointed at the menu. "Please tell me it is not made of shepherds."

"What? No, of course it is not! That would be cannibalism!"

"For all I know, or care…"

"You are such a difficult person."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what is it?"

"I do not know. I assume some sort of food. Why would it be named that?"

"How should I know?"

"It's named that because it's something that could be made, and eaten, by poorer people, such as shepherds," Commander Duncan answered, suddenly appearing next to us. "Or so I was always told. It can be quite good."

"Perhaps we should try some then, Cleon?" I suggested. "I never had it before."

"Maybe," Cleon muttered. "What else is there here?"

"Oh, I do not know. I would assume food or drinks."

"Perhaps I had better order for you," Commander Duncan chuckled. "I forgot neither of you would know the items here."

"Do you already have our rooms?" Cleon asked. "I figured it would take longer, considering how crowded the place is."

"Well, not everyone eating here is _staying_, Cleon. Some people are just here for the food or entertainment." What sort of entertainment? After all, there were no stories or… oh, wait, perhaps he meant… oh, my face was going so red. I guess some places were like the Tower after all. "Also, we're Wardens."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means we're respected and feared. I arranged for you and Layla to share a room. I hope you don't mind."

"I do not," I chimed in. "Apprentices shared many rooms."

"Not the first time I've shared with a girl," Cleon added. "Many of us slept in the same room as da'len, for warmth and security. And I have a twin sister."

"Good. I'd feel more comfortable if the two of you could protect each other," Commander Duncan replied. "Now then, let's get to that food, shall we? Oh, and Layla?"

"Yes, sir?" I answered.

"If someone bothers you, tell them you're a Warden mage. That'll have them leave you alone quickly."

"If you say so, sir." That was a strange thing to advise. It was not like I could turn anyone into toads or anything! Shapeshifting was not a possible magic, after all!

"Let's just get this over with," Cleon sighed mournfully. "I miss the forest already." Well, I was quite happy to be out of it. Tomorrow, though, we would see a city, a real city! I had not seen one with my own eyes since leaving Kirkwall! It was sure to be quite a lovely and fair place, yes?

* * *

Author's Note: So, yeah. Character interactions. Duncan's backstory. Duncan being the more personable person that Alistair implies. Not a lot, sorry?

Next chapter – Tabris Origin! With his POV. …It'll probably be another long one. I'm sorry in advance.


	8. Chapter 7) Origin of Aiden Tabris

**Chapter 7) Origin of the Silent Force, Hero of the Downtrodden – Wedding**

_Aiden Tabris POV_

* * *

"_This is the vhenadahl, the tree of the people. So long as it lives, so too shall we." The great tree in the Alienage stands tall, healthy, and beautiful in the slums where we city elves live. The poorest of the poor, the unwanted and unwelcomed who desperately scramble for what the humans discard. But let it never be said we're not happy. We have shelter, for one thing, and we are never left alone. There are some humans who can't say the same._

_Some of the elders claim we've fallen, but I'm not so certain on that, really. If we have, though, it isn't all the fault of humans. It's partly ours. After all, we let them walk all over us. We let them beat us. We never take a stand. And we never will, because we remember the devastation that happened when humans overran our ancestors. Submissions is preferable to that, or so the majority thinks. Anything to prevent the slaughters again. So, I'll never voice this opinion of mine. For the sake of my family, and the Alienage I call home, I won't._

_My greatest dream is for someone, anyone really, to recognize us elves. We're a free people, but treated more harshly than slaves sometimes. To act out on free will leads others to label us as troublemakers and look on us in fear. So, I swallow my dream, my pride, my strength to keep the rest content. I just pray I check my temper for the rest of my life, so that I don't force humans to take an alternate approach towards us. Violence begets violence, as Valendrian says, and the streets and earth are already crimson enough with the blood of elves._

* * *

The crates were even heavier today than usual, but that was to be expected. These weren't filled with silks and the like, but weapons for the soldiers heading south. Some of my fellow workers had given up with moving them, because the weight was 'outside their ability to lift'. Really, they were just being lazy, but I wasn't going to say a word to them. No, let them rant about the oppressing humans. I'd just do the work and try not to bring the wrath down on all of us. As always.

"Don't you agree?" one of them called suddenly. It took a second to realize he was actually talking to me. I normally kept apart from them. "Your mom was killed by shem, right? Two years ago?"

"Yes, but it was a human who saved her when she was held in the prisons of the Arl. I'm sure you heard about that prison break three years ago," I answered coolly, concentrating on my work. "It is pointless to think all of them the same. No two elves are the same, after all. Why should it be that way for humans?"

The speaker sneered and returned to his ranting with his friends. I suppressed a sigh and continued on moving the crates. It was always like this. I was quiet. I was calm. I didn't hate all humans, only some. Valendrian was proud of me for it, but a lot of the other elves thought I was, at best, strange for it.

"Aiden!" I jerked my head up as Bann Rodolf's voice echoed through the hall. It was rare the lord of the house came down here. Yet there he was, right in the doorway.

"Yes, milord?" I replied, setting down the crate I just picked up.

"Ah, there you are." He smiled warmly when he saw me. Bann Rodolf had employed my father for many, _many_ years and, after Father died, had hired me on the spot when I came looking for work. I was immensely grateful to him for that. "Your cousin Shianni is here."

"Is that so, milord?" What would Shianni be doing here?

"She mentioned you had to return to the Alienage at once, so I'm giving you the rest of the day off. Oh, and your pay early." He tossed me a coin purse. "I'm sure the rest of them can do your job, for once." Of course he knew I overworked. I could tell because he always paid me more than my contract said. "Go on! You're only young once!"

"As you will, milord." I bowed to him before racing for the servants' entrance, where Shianni should be waiting.

As expected, she was right there, bouncing around with a giant smile. I didn't recognize the blond elf she was gossiping with, though. Had a new family moved in? "Oh, Aiden!" Shianni called when she saw me, waving happily. "Over here! Your fiancé is here!" …Wait, what? No, Nessiara wasn't due for another few months. "Oh, stop standing there like an idiot. She came early _just_ to meet you!"

"A trade caravan was heading this way," the new elf explained. So, this was Nessiara? "It seemed like a good chance to travel in safety. Lady Elspeth arranged it for me, when Hahren Sarethia mentioned it during one of her visits with Teyrna Eleanor."

"It's good to meet you, Nessiara," I finally replied, getting over my startlement as I tried to think of everything I knew about her. It wasn't much, truth be told. Father's will had left money for a matchmaker, so all I knew came from that one source. Beautiful, from Highever, and a veritable genius with crafts. And I was to marry her. Oh well, it wasn't like my parents had known each other before they married either, and they'd been incredibly happy together. The physician said that Father had died from heartbreak. "Did you have a good trip?"

"And you, Aiden." She smiled shyly. "It was fine. Hard to leave my home, but the matchmaker spoke so highly of you that I was quite excited."

"That's why I brought her with me!" Shianni laughed, grabbing both our arms. "Come on! Party time!"

"You're just looking for an excuse to drink," I retorted as I let her drag me off. I smiled wryly at Nessiara. "And yes, she's like this a _lot_." Nessiara just giggled in reply. At least she took things well.

"Who needs an excuse to drink?" One of these days, I would have to go to the Chantry and ask for their assistance for Shianni's habit. She'd taken it up after Mother died and I was certain it was starting to become a problem. "Oh, this is going to be a _great_ day! Nothing can go wrong!"

…Why did I have a sudden bad feeling? Oh, it was probably nothing. Just nerves.

* * *

"Aiden, there you are!" …Not two steps into the Alienage, which was going all out with the festivities, and I was accosted by one of my neighbors. "We can't find Soris anywhere." He sighed heavily. "His bride is here, nervous as a mouse in front of a cat, and he's not here!"

"Oh, poor Valora," Nessiara murmured as I let my neighbor rant a bit more. "We traveled down together, and she was so shaky from nerves."

"Ah, don't worry," Shianni reassured. "Aiden _always_ can find him or me."

"That's because you two have predictable hiding places," I pointed out as the ranting stopped. "Have you checked the stables?" My neighbor nodded. "Okay, that was place one. Place two…" I walked past him to the vhenadhal, growing proudly in the center of the Alienage. Now, technically, we weren't supposed to climb it, but that never stopped anyone. And Soris adored heights.

"You're not going to climb it, are you?!" someone yelped. It sounded like Shayda. She must've closed down the stand early to be here for the wedding. "You know better, Aiden!" Definitely her. She was the only one to scold me like that.

"But does Soris?" I asked in answer before jumping and swinging up into the branches. Higher and higher I climbed, and it was near the top that I found my quarry. "Boo."

"WHA!" I had to surge forward and catch Soris before he fell. He gave me a pitiful look as I steadied him. "Don't _do_ that, cousin," he begged. "I think you just took ten years off my life!"

"Well, good news. Everyone in the Alienage now knows you're here," I pointed out, sitting next to him. "Your bride was particularly nervous. For shame, Soris."

"What are you doing back here so early anyway?" Of course he'd change the subject.

"My bride is here too. We're getting married together."

"Well, I'd _hope_ you two would get married together." I mimed a blow at him and he laughed. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Of course not. Now, are you hiding out here or did you forget how to get down?"

"…Both?"

"Well, walk where I walk."

We were almost down when he slipped and fell to the ground. So close. Unfortunately for him, Shianni was right there, and she burst out in laughter. "You're such a klutz, Soris!" she managed through the laughing. "You shouldn't hide up there if you can't get down."

Throwing my hands up at their antics, I turned to address Nessiara, who was watching them with confusion, but my attention was caught by Nessa and her family. Or, more importantly, by their _packing_. "What's going on?" I asked them softly.

"Moving," Nessa's father answered tersely. Nessa's mother rolled her eyes at her husband's gruffness, and Nessa, half-hiding, sighed. "Building is being closed, so we're heading down to Ostagar."

"Where the soldiers are gathering?"

"And the laborers. Workers are needed to keep an army running smoothly."

"So, all of you head south?" Could Nessa even work in an army? Her chief skill was _babysitting_. Surely there weren't children running around down there, right?

"Yep." And of course he refused to consider going south on his own. His wife might've accepted it, but his _daughter_…

Nessa glanced at me pleadingly as her parents finished the last of the packing and I knew why. She never had a desire to step foot outside the Alienage, and there was no telling what some stressed soldiers might do to a pretty elf girl who couldn't fight back. "Sir, why not let Nessa stay here?" I suggested calmly. "Shianni will need someone to watch out for her, since Soris is living with Valora." Or will be. "And before you talk about providing… well, sir, I don't see how adding another to who I take care of will make much of a difference. Especially now that Soris has his job at the stables now."

"But your wife-"

"Is a seamstress and jewelry maker, which are always in demand." Particularly around a Landsmeet. "I'm serious, sir. Nessa will be just fine here."

He was silent for a moment. "And Shianni won't mind?"

"It's Shianni." Shianni didn't mind _anything_ that didn't hurt her family.

"You can come back when you make enough money," Nessa added as her father still hesitated. "Please, Father?"

"You know my protests about this all centered on dragging Nessa around," her mother chimed in. "Nessa will be better off here, and we'll have a home to come back to. Come now. It's a good choice."

"Oh, all right," he sighed heavily. "All right, Nessa. You can stay." He gave me a stern look. "I expect her to be kept safe until our return, Aiden."

"You have my word," I replied instantly. "I'll protect her, just as I would Shianni and-"

"I heard my name," Shianni interrupted right then. "What's up?"

"Nessa is staying with you," I told her without missing a beat.

Her reply was just as quick. "Really? Cool! Come on, Nessa, we're checking on dresses!" She took Nessa by the arm and started dragging her off. "Come on! Oh, and Aiden, get changed! We're starting soon!"

"I'd better obey," I laughed, bowing to Nessa's parents. "I wish you well. Until we meet again."

"And you," Nessa's mother replied as her husband shook his head in defeat. "Now, off with you. You've a wedding!"

"Yes, ma'am." I waved them goodbye and started for my house. I knew better than to hunt for anyone. Shianni would be cross if I didn't obey her with promptness and-

"Aiden?" a small voice asked as I felt a tug on my leg. I looked down to see it was Amethyne. "Aiden, do you know when my mother is coming back from Highever?"

"As soon as Lady Landra does," I reassured, ruffling her hair. Okay, Shianni could _not_ get mad at me reassuring Amethyne. We all-but-adopted her as a cousin after all. "I know Iona misses you too."

"You sure?"

"Of course." Iona frequently described her daughter as the light of her life, after all. "She'll be back before you know it."

"Okay." She smiled softly. "Hey, after the wedding, can you tell me the story of the elf king again?"

"I might tell you one similar." Mostly because I couldn't keep track of all the stories I made up. I'd spun a _lot_ over the years to give the children pride in being elves. "But for now, I've got to follow Shianni's orders and wash up."

"Right!" She laughed. "I'm the flower girl! Shianni said so!"

"Then go check in with Nessiara and Valora. Shianni might forget."

"Okay!" She skipped off, singing a song her mother taught her.

No signs of anything bad today. Maybe it really was just my imagination.

* * *

I'd just finished changing when noise at the gate caught my attention. It sounded like arguing. Oh, what was going on now?

Sighing, I went to the gates and was startled by the group of well-dressed humans loitering and leering about. And their leader… oh, yes, I knew who he was. Lord Vaughan, son of Denerim's Arl, and bane to all women. Literally. The poor blacksmith's daughter… raped and killed before being thrown away like trash. The fact that he was here in the Alienage spoke ill of the day. Guess my instincts were still sharp. Joy.

"Milord, may I ask what brings you here?" I asked as I approached. I made myself keep polite. No doubt they were here to cause trouble, probably to steal an elf to rape later, but it would be _very bad_ to accuse them of such.

"What's this? One of the grooms come to welcome me personally?" Lord Vaughan laughed, walking towards me. "Your fellow tried earlier, but he got scared." I glanced to see Soris standing in front of Valora and Nessiara. Oh, yes, he'd been scared, but not for himself. He'd been scared for the two elves who had no idea just what sort of human had waltzed into the Alienage. "What about you?"

"I would like to talk about why you are here, milord," I repeated. One of Lord Vaughan's friends just laughed. "I was under the impression your father left many things for you to do in his absence." And perhaps reminding him that his father was only a letter away would keep Lord Vaughan from doing anything _public_. His father was a kind, if harsh, man.

"And just _where_ would a knife-ear hear something like that?"

"I work for one of the local Banns." My grip on my temper slipped and the next words just left my mouth without me thinking about them. "You are not well liked, milord."

"And who are you to state that?" he snapped, grabbing my collar. He tried to pick me up and shake me, but I was too heavy. Years of training, and laboring, had made me hard to be offset by pure strength. "I'll have you gutted you little-!" And then he let go, stumbling off to the side and holding his head. Right behind him was Shianni, glaring murderously as she kept a good grip on the bottle in her hand.

She… she _hit_ him over the head with a bottle? Really? Oh, Shianni, you were going to get into so much trouble for that!

"That's the last straw, knife-ear whore!" one of Lord Vaughan's friends snapped, making a grab for Shianni. She ducked behind me. "This is going to go badly for you, you little-!"

"Is everything all right here?" And suddenly there was a new voice. I'd never seen this human before, actually. Everything from her hair to her speech to her clothes spoke of sheltered high class, though her relaxed posture reflected someone who didn't focus on such things. She had a kind smile, though, and even kinder eyes. "It looks quite exciting here," she continued, showing some naivety as well.

"And you are?" Lord Vaughn grumbled as he steadied himself. Annoyed as he was, he ignored Shianni to focus on the newcomer's breasts. His friends did too. Damn them.

"I am Layla Amell, a mage of the Circle." And what was a mage doing here?

"An apostate?"

"Actually, the two of us are Wardens," another answered, stepping up to be in front of Mistress Layla. Protecting her? He certainly seemed more like a protector, at least. An elf with strange markings on his face, an accent I'd never heard before, and armor not like what I'd seen in the marketplace. He held himself tall, proud even, and he looked like he knew very well how to use the daggers at his waist. I'd _never_ seen an elf like this before. "Cleon Mahariel of the Dalish Clan Sabrae, shem." Dalish? "Our Commander is near, paying his respects to the Hahren."

"I… see," Lord Vaughan mumbled, paling considerably. Wardens. I'd heard of them, somewhat. I only really knew they were a respected order of warriors, and King Cailan and the Couslands _adored_ them. "Come on, we're leaving, boys!"

Well, I wouldn't say they ran, but they certain didn't linger, with Mistress Layla smiling sadly and Cleon glaring at their backs. "I am sorry if we interrupted something," Mistress Layla murmured. She stepped closer to Cleon as the others eyed her suspiciously. Not too surprised, though it annoyed me. Just because Neria accidentally caused a roof to cave in did _not_ mean that all mages needed to be feared. I'd like to see what they did if locked in a closet by bullying children and… and I needed to calm down very quickly. It wouldn't do to lose my temper in front of strangers or humans.

"You did not, mistress," I replied to her, keeping my head down. Some humans didn't like elves making eye contact, and she was actually a bit shorter than me. Not the norm, that. "I thank you, on behalf of all of us, for helping to resolve that."

"Oh, well, I am glad." Her smile warmed as she focused on me. "Would it be rude to ask your name?"

"Aiden Tabris, mistress."

"So, you're one of the grooms today, then?" Cleon commented. His eyes turned sad then, and Mistress Layla gently touched his arm. "Hahren Valendrian mentioned you."

"I am," I answered, trying to read him. "I just met her today, though."

"Strange custom, that. Of course, Pol mentioned something similar."

"Pol?" That was the name of one Soris's friend's brothers.

"Yeah, he joined my Clan shortly before I left."

"Then I can give his brother good news. He's been fretting since he arrived two days ago."

"I'll do that, if you don't mind, actually. You… should spend some time with your Promised. You never know what might happen." Ah, there we go. Something must've happened recently and now he couldn't marry his own… assuming 'Promised' meant fiancé here. Was that why he joined the Wardens?

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy your time in the Alienage."

"It is certainly a… learning experience," Mistress Layla murmured then, tactfully. Must've not been expecting the squalor. "I wish you happy days, Aiden."

"And you, mistress," I replied. The two both nodded at me as they wandered away, closer to the tree. Probably to study it. It was the most impressive thing in the Alienage after all.

"E-everyone okay?" Soris asked shakily. I turned my attention back to the group and made a mental note on everyone. Stunned, worried, but ultimately fine. Good. That was enough of a shake. Likely, there were going to be some consequences later, much later, but we could figure out how to hide.

"Just some bruises and anger," Shianni muttered, sighing heavily. "Ugh, I messed up, huh? I just couldn't stand the thought of him trying to throw you around."

"It'll be fine," I reassured. "Think a little more next time, though?"

"I'll try."

"Besides, he won't tell anyone that an _elf girl_ got the better of him," Soris quickly added, coming to stand with us as the crowd slowly dispersed.

"Probably," Shianni agreed reluctantly. "Nice job acting pathetic to get his attention off the brides."

"That… wasn't really acting."

"Hush. You're supposed to let me think well of you."

"_Are_ you two okay?" I asked as I noticed Nessiara lingering with another elf. Since I didn't know her, I guessed she was Valora. "Sorry you had to see that. He must have started drinking early." Not likely, but there was no reason to scare them.

"Just a bit shaken," Valora squeaked, smiling shakily. "What an _awful_ man."

"You aren't hurt, are you?" Nessiara asked me. "I saw him grab you."

"Just fine," I reassured. "Promise."

"Um… cousin?" Soris hissed. When he was sure he got my attention, he gestured discreetly to the vhenadhal, where a lone human wandered. Oh dear. "Think you can…?"

"Yes, I'll take care of that," I replied. "I'll see the rest of you at the wedding."

"We better," Nessiara retorted. "I'll hunt you down." ...Odd that I actually found that attractive. Today was really getting to me.

Waving goodby to the group, I made my way to the human. I could only assume he was the Warden Commander Cleon mentioned. He certainly looked dangerous. I definitely didn't want to get on his bad side. On the other hand, there were some in the Alienage who might let anger take over and, worse, they were the ones most likely to be drunk. So, I approached him slowly, carefully, making sure he knew I was going to talk to _him_. He caught on instantly, remaining where he was until I was near. "Greetings, young one," he murmured. "Congratulations on the day."

"I thank you, ser," I whispered back. "Do you have business here?"

"I do, but I believe I found what I was seeking already."

"May I ask what it was?"

"You may, but I will not answer."

Of course not. "Then, seeing as you found it, I would assume you will be leaving soon?"

"I'm afraid that would be false. I've no intention on leaving just yet."

Right, leaving a dangerous, armed human in the middle of an Alienage with drunk elves and tempers. "I ask you, again, to leave."

"And I refuse, again." I hoped this was more due to his personality and less due to him being a human talking to an elf. He, at least, seemed to be having fun with this. "Now what?"

"Perhaps a compromise, then?"

"Not a bit of fear." Why did I get the feeling that he wasn't talking to me now? "Keeping such a calm head is admirable, especially in these dark times. Wouldn't you say so, Valendrian?"

"It is, though I rather like the ability to keep one's blade sheathed a bit better," Valendrian laughed, startling me. "Aiden, I'm glad to see you make the acquaintance of my old friend. This is Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens."

Friend? "I guessed," I replied slowly. "I met the two others."

"I hope they've been behaving," Master Duncan sighed, sounding a _lot_ like Father did when Shianni or Soris were up to something. "Layla was running around earlier all eager to help, and Cleon is prideful."

"I've not heard of anything, ser. I met them when they helped diffuse an argument."

"Last that _I_ heard, young Layla had healed a child's illness for free," Valendrian added. "Cleon has been helping the children with slingshots, though, and traps, so he might be indirectly responsible for pranks in the near future."

"I'd better find them before they decide it's a good idea to chop down something," Master Duncan sighed. "Maybe you can help distract them, Valendrian? Cleon seemed to look forward to speaking with you. I think it's because your title is similar to one in his Clan."

"I don't see a problem in that, my friend."

"My thanks." Master Duncan turned to smile at me. "It was good meeting you, Aiden."

"And you, Master Duncan," I replied, bowing automatically. "Until we meet again."

"Yes, until then." Despite the nonchalant tone he used, he gave Valendrian an amused look, almost as if some sort of joke had just been said. Valendrian merely smiled and shrugged in response, confusing me. …Never knew Valendrian could relax enough for inside jokes.

Deciding to not think of that and, instead, actually get to the platform where the wedding would take place, I walked off in that direction… only for someone to call my name. Again. "Hey, Aiden…" I looked down to see Candidus and smiled softly at him. He was reduced to begging now, ever since a bad accident at the shipyard crushed his legs. His human employers had just thrown him into an alley and didn't help him at all. "Think you can help me a bit?" he asked. "I want a good view of the wedding, but it's rather poor here."

"Yeah, sure," I agreed. "Just one sec." I looked around and hailed the first person I saw nearby. "Slim!"

"Yeah?" he replied. Slim was one of the strange elf-blooded who decided to stay in the Alienage instead of making a life for himself as a 'normal' human.

"Candidus needs a new seat."

"Oh, yeah, I'll help you get him up." He grinned and waved at Candidus who waved back. "Where too, old man?"

"Just a place where I can see the festivities," he answered. "I want to see."

"What about that spot right there?" Slim pointed to a small out of the way corner of the main square, where the buildings met together in a convenient little seat a good distance from the ground. "You can see everything from there, but no one will be able to jar you off."

"Looks good to me."

"Let me clear it off, then," I volunteered, rushing over to dust it off, just in case some metal shards or tree bark had clung to it. As I did so, Slim picked up Candidus. At my nod, the two of us helped get him balanced there. "You okay?"

"Just fine!" Candidus laughed, smiling broadly. "Thanks you two."

"No problem," we chorused before waving and walking away to leave him to get comfortable.

Slim sighed not long afterwards, though, so I had to ask, "Are you all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine," he replied after a moment. "Just fine."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, there _is_ nothing wrong. It's just…" He sighed heavily. "It's just that I've got so many ideas. So many potential jobs." Right, Slim 'worked' as an advisor tip-giver… person for the local thieves. "Now, if I could find someone with enough skill to _do_ them…"

"Just be careful, Slim," I cautioned.

"Oh, you know it." He grinned. "For now, though, there's a wedding to be drunk for!"

"I know." And, with luck, the worst of the day was _over_. If I never saw Lord Vaughan again, it would be too soon!

* * *

It didn't take long for the wedding stage to be set up. The late party ended up being Valendrian, likely because he'd talked so long with the three Wardens. I saw the three wave goodbye as they left for the gates, and was more than a little pleased to see the amount of respect they had on their faces. Valendrian deserved a _lot_ of respect for what he dealt with on a regular basis, and rarely did he get even a quarter of it.

"Sorry, sorry," Valendrian laughed as the crowded good-naturedly complained about the delays. "Revered Mother, if I may?"

"Of course," the Mother answered with a smile. Just as in all Alienages, the wedding was presided by the Chantry. Valendrian set up the time in advance, and she'd seem quite all right with the idea of marrying two couples. Almost as if she'd been expecting it. Well, maybe someone went to the Chantry and told her of the sudden change. "If I wasn't going to wait for your traditional speech, then I would've gone ahead and married them!"

"Wardens. They're always so _serious_." The smile he wore said otherwise. He'd _liked_ talking to them. "Now, then…" He clapped his hands for attention, and beamed at everyone. "Welcome, my friends, to this joyous occasion!" The crowd below cheered. I turned to smile at Nessiara as she clung to my arm. She smiled back, looking both nervous as excited. "Today, we celebrate not only these joinings, but also ourselves and our culture, our bonds of kin and kind." Soris and Valora were on the other side of the podium. They both looked nervous, but Soris, at least, didn't look like he was about to bolt. Good sign, that. "We are a free people, but that was not always the case." Shianni and the other bridesmaids were beaming in between us. Shianni was barely containing her excitement, bouncing on her feet. "Andraste, the Maker's Prophet, freed us long ago, and allowed us to rebuild our old lives." Amethyne and the other flower girls weren't hiding their excitement well either, swaying from side to side with giant grins. "As our community grows and thrives, remember that our strength lies in our commitment to tradition and to each other." The crowd was beaming too, all ready to see the ceremony over, so that they could party until dawn tomorrow. "Now, let us all show our respect, and gratitude, to the couples, and for the ceremony that shall bind them." It looked like there was a bit of commotion, though. Like someone was forcing their… way… through… oh, oh Maker, was that…? "Hmm? Aiden, is something wrong?"

"Trouble," I growled, as Lord Vaughan and his friends made their way up onto the platform, casually shoving elves aside like they were nothing. What was he doing _back_ here? And so soon? I would've thought at least a _week_ to prepare for his revenge! "Lots of trouble." More than lots. I could see others dressed as guardsmen plowing their way through, too. I had no idea if they were 'real' guardsmen or just some noble bastards who managed to steel the armor, but that didn't matter. The point was that

"Milord, what brings you here?" the Mother asked politely, stepping up before Lord Vaughan could get close to us. "This is most unexpected."

"Sorry to interrupt, Mother," Lord Vaughan laughed, faking cheer and politeness as he stepped around her. "Well, we noticed the Wardens weren't staying, so we thought to be polite and take their places in the audience!" …Basically, he only ran before because there were Wardens, and now they were gone, so he came back. Stupid. I should've suspected something like that! "And I'm throwing a party, but there's a lack of female companionship, so I thought-"

"Milord, this is a _wedding_!"

"Dress up your toys and play with them as you'd like, but let's not pretend they're actual people now, yes?" …Well, we'd get to see if the Grand Cleric would do something about _that_. Should be interesting. "Now, we're here for a _good_ time, boys, so grab a wench and take them home!" He turned and glared at Shianni, who glared back. "Oh, and make sure you get the bitch who bottled me, hmm?"

"You can't take them!" I was thankful the Mother kept protesting, even as Lord Vaughan's men started grabbing the girls and dragging them off. I made to go after them, but someone caught my shoulders and held me still. "You cannot!" She threw herself in front of the children as one stepped too close to them. "I _will_ report this!"

"One crazed Mother against a noble?" Lord Vaughan scoffed, grabbing Nessiara himself before walking off. His armed men filed in after him. "We'll see who is believed."

This was madness. He just waltzed right on in, insulted the Mother, kidnapped the girls, and was just going to _walk away_. Too far. This time, he went _too far_!

I grabbed the man holding me and flung him over my shoulder. He hit another human as he ran. I ignored them both to continue chasing after the group, chasing after the girls. I had to get them. I had to…!

"Argh!" I yelped as someone's knife dug into my shoulder. I twisted and punched him in the face, but when I turned back, I saw Lord Vaughan and his group had already gone passed the gates. Once they were out there, they were out of my hands. They were gone. Even if I could fight through all the others, they were…

"I am sorry!" There was a flash of light and suddenly parts of the streets were coated in ice. The guards Lord Vaughan had left behind slipped and slid, crashing into each other. As they fell, I caught sight of the one who'd done it. Mistress Layla. "I am so sorry," she continued apologizing, using her magic to baffle and confuse them. And as they tried to get their balance, Cleon appeared from the shadows and killed them. No hesitation whatsoever. Any that got too close to him or Layla were on the ground, without even enough time to yell in pain.

"What's going on here?!" Of course the guards would only appear _now_, when it was too late to get them to help with the kidnapping. They looked angry too, likely because of the deaths of their own. "Well," the spokesperson snapped. "If you two think you can get away with killing-!"

"Actually, your guards attacked _them_." That was Master Duncan. He casually worked his way through the bodies, like he was far too used to death. "And they are Warden Recruits, good guardsman," he continued lightly. "Perhaps you should teach your men to not go along with a noble's plan. It might be unhealthy." The guards glared, but didn't move. "Go on and investigate things, like you're supposed to. Or _I_ will, directly to King Cailan." Well, that got the moving. But… well, in actuality, that was expected. Our king was a bit of an idiot, but a goodhearted one. If he was made aware of corruption and injustice, he _would_ see it dealt with, personally if need be, regardless of the potential political fallout, unlike his wife.

Still, that was small comfort as I looked around. Dead, wounded, and the _missing_. We'd been caught by surprised and, likely, nothing would ever be done about it. I was so _sick_ of this! So sick. Constantly we were harassed and only a handful of the… no, no, I had to stop thinking this way. I had to. Acting on anger just led to more hatred, and Mother had told me of good humans. _Very_ good humans and… and…

"Please, hold still." I jumped at the voice and whirled to see it was Mistress Layla, holding a glowing hand to my wounded shoulder. She mouthed something and the light flowed into the wound, knitting up the skin with barely a hint of a scar. "There we go," she whispered, smiling shakily at me as the light faded. "You should be just-" From my view, the rock flew out of nowhere to hit her in the face. She yelped and ducked, only to get hit by a second one. Then a third, then a fourth. Mud also hit her. What…?

"What are you doing?!" Cleon snapped, appearing from nowhere to deflect the fifth rock. Mistress Layla kept her head down, using her hands to shield her face.

"Stupid shem!" I finally turned then to see who had attacked her. It was my fellow elves. Angry and miserable, they were turning her into a scapegoat, because she was human. Just as humans did to elves when things went wrong with them. That was it. We always turned each other into scapegoats. "Stupid shem! You always ruin everything!"

"Leave her alone, you brats! She came here to try to hel-"

"D-does an-anyone n-need h-healing?" Mistress Layla whimpered. She glanced up, just looking at me. Blood and tears dripping down her face as she shook. "Does… does anyone need… need healing? Does anyone need h-help? Oh, Maker, why did no one help?"

"Layla, let's get you over here and clean that wound," Cleon whispered, making sure he was between her and my fellows. "Think of how worried they'll be if the healer is crying."

"I'm sorry," I murmured as she nodded. She was still crying, still bleeding, and still shaking. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Cleon looked right at me as he spoke. "You're… not acting like a da'len." What was that word? "You're acting as an elder. Can you keep them off us?" Us? Why would they…? Because they would see him as 'traitor' by helping a human. Everything about human and elf relations was just so messed up.

"I'll find Valendrian," I promised. "There's a house not far from here, just around the corner, with a small black ribbon on it. That's my house. There should be a basic first aid kit in there."

"Ma serranas," he whispered, helping Mistress Layla limp off. Limp? Did a rock hit her leg? Or had she run to help so quickly that she'd hurt herself?

Shaking the questions out of my head, I hunted for Valendrian. He wasn't hard to find, thank the Maker. He was at the vhenadhal, conversing with Master Duncan. The two weren't making an effort to hide their conversation, though. I could hear it easily as I approached.

"Duncan, you can't really help here," Valendrian whispered. "I know you can't. Stop fretting over it. You're supposed to be the calm commander."

"If King Cailan or the Couslands were here, this would be easy," Master Duncan muttered. "But they aren't."

"Because they're preparing for the Blight, and you're in a bad enough position that you can't afford to offend anyone."

"Yes. How did you figure it out?"

"I talked to Cleon and Layla. Cleon is a good pick for Warden, but Layla? It's almost cruel to make her one, with her personality. If you're doing it anyway, Duncan, then I know it's because you need power and strength more than the need to be nice."

"Valendrian," I called softly. He turned to face me. "Some of the others threw rocks and mud at Mistress Layla, despite her offering healing. She and Cleon are tending to her wounds at my house, but…"

"…I'll calm them," he murmured. I could tell he was fighting the urge to sigh. "And then we will talk about what is to happen." As he walked away, Master Duncan glanced at me. There was a question there, in his eyes, as he held my gaze before turning away to help Valendrian. The question was easy to read. 'Will you submit or will you fight?'

I wondered that myself.

* * *

It took some time to calm everyone enough to talk and not attack the two humans who decided to stay and help, despite the hostilities, or the elf who decided to protect them, and us. Of course, the talking was more of rantings and grumblings as we all snacked on salt chews. The Revered Mother who'd been asked to officiate the weddings, who'd risked herself to protect the children, had left. She'd been made uncomfortable by the glares. I'd made sure to thank her before she left. She'd really appreciated it.

"Please, all of you _listen_!" Valendrian cried for what had to be the fifth time. Master Duncan stood by him, as a beacon of strength and intimidation. I had no idea where Cleon and Mistress Layla had gone. "There's nothing we can do at the moment." I swore I saw red every time that was said, even if it _was_ logical.

"He's right," Elva, a neighbor, added. I had to force myself to not grit my teeth. Elva and I had _never_ gotten along. She always went out of her way to insult me, and I always went out of my way to try not to rise to her bait. "Messing with them will just bring their wrath on all of us."

"So, we're just going to sit by and do _nothing_?" Alarith demanded pointedly. "I know better than you what happens when you don't fight back!" He would. He was a former slave of the Imperium who managed to escape. Lost his parents and brother on the way to Fereldan, though. "This place is _everything_ worth fighting for, so why aren't you?"

There was more arguing, but I didn't hear it. I just kept hearing Alarith's words and thinking of Master Duncan's silent question. Would I submit? Would I fight? Isn't this place worth fighting for? Aren't the people worth swallowing pride over? Back and forth, the questions bounced around in my head.

It wasn't until I was back at my house, pulling up the loose floorboard that I realized I gave myself the answer. I stared at what the floorboard hid. My greatsword. Just where I put it after Mother died. When I promised Father I'd never take it up again. Hopefully, though, Father would forgive me breaking that promise. After all, he broke his promise to stay with me when he died. And I kept mine longer. I kept mine for two years. He… he only kept his for _six months_.

The weapon stayed in my white-knuckled grip as I stepped out of the house and started for the gates. I knew the servants' way into the Arl's estate. I knew how to get in. Getting out might be more difficult with the girls, but I could-

"Cousin?" I jerked my head up at Soris's voice and saw him running to catch up. He ran awkwardly, but it didn't take long to figure out why. The bow and quiver unbalanced him.

"Soris, where did you get that crossbow?" I asked, not bothering to ask what he was doing here. Soris would get to that.

"That Warden Commander passed it my way." He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Supposedly, it was to help clean, but this… this is better quality than a guard would have." Not only that, but there was a strange bird carved into it. That symbol… it was _only_ used for Wardens. He'd given his _own_ crossbow. "So, let's go get the girls, right?"

"You're coming too?"

"…Y-yeah." He was shaking. "I mean; I'm _scared_, but I'm more scared of what he'll do to them. I'd rather die trying to help them than sit around knowing what's going to happen. B-besides, you know I'm not a bad shot."

"With slingshots." I was the _only_ elf with any sort of training in the Alienage. Soris had never even been _near_ a real bow.

"Can't be much different." I gave him a stern look and he shrugged. "…At least, I'm going to tell myself that until we're all out of there, safe and sound. I'll throw up and pass out then. I p-promise to hold it off until then."

"Soris…"

"You might be able to do it alone, Aiden, but I _know_ I can help and I want to. Even if it's just one arrow."

"…Okay. Okay, we'll go together." I smiled at him, relaxing slightly. "Come on, cousin. Let's go be the heroes."

"And hope we get just as happy endings." He laughed nervously, before pointing. "Hey, what are they doing here?"

Confused, I turned and saw two people near the gate. Mistress Layla and Cleon. What _were_ they doing here? "Might I assist you?" I asked them, keeping my tone even.

"No, I am merely accompany Cleon as he walks to clear his head," Mistress Layla answered quickly. "That is all."

"I just so happen to choose the same way as you, as nonchalantly as possible," Cleon added with a vicious grin. "Complete coincidence really. Just like how it'll be a complete coincidence if any outside guards disappear or appear dazed and confused." What? "Basically, Duncan said we Wardens can't do anything 'officially' due to politics and the Wardens being on some shaky ground."

"However, there is nothing that says we cannot do anything unofficially." Mistress Layla's smile was still kind, despite the tear-red eyes, small bandage to her head, and the mud staining her dress. "I… find it hard to believe, what happened. It makes no sense to me. Elves are the same as humans, are they not? They just look a little different." So, elves were treated well in the Tower? Nice to know that.

"That'll take more time that we've got to explain." Cleon nodded at me. "We can't help once you're inside, but we can make sure you've a good escape outside. Duncan already knows, and approves without saying anything, so let's go."

"…Thank you…" I mumbled, touched they'd go out of their way to help. "Thank you, very, very much."

* * *

Mistress Layla and Cleon wished us luck as we entered the Estate. Soris was shaking as we walked, holding the crossbow like it was a lifeline. Me? I felt strangely calm, despite all the fury I had building up. Despite all the bodies I left in my wake. Despite all the blood I slung up onto the walls. Human guards, mabari dogs… everyone who got in my way I killed without thinking about it. I was calm. I was very, very calm. And I was furious. I was very, very furious.

This was why I avoided losing my temper. Things broke and could never be fixed.

In fact, the only thing that gave me pause was Nola's body. I had nearly tripped over her corpse as I slaughtered a guardsman who'd been hovering over it. I absently tried to find a pulse as I kneeled next to her. Still warm, but definitely dead. She'd been just sixteen years old.

"They actually killed her?" Soris whispered as he knelt beside me. He was shaking badly, so I gripped his shoulder reassuringly. "Why?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Maybe they just felt like it."

"Would they do that?"

"I doubt Lord Vaughan would be so distressed at one less toy if his men were in a killing mood."

"I suppose." He sighed. "I'm running low on arrows."

I glanced around and pointed at one of the corpses nearby. "Take his."

"Steal from a dead guy?"

"I think he's missing his life a lot more than he'd miss those arrows."

"…That's just sick, cousin."

"I know. But it's true."

"I… I suppose." He lurched to his feet and stumbled over to pick up the arrows. "What do we do with her body?"

I knew what I wanted, but… "Leave her for now."

"But…"

"We can carry her back once we got the girls. We can't fight with her."

"…Yeah, okay."

"We _will_ come back for her body." Who was I trying to reassure? Him or me?

"Okay, cousin."

As we left behind Nola's body, I went back into the calm yet unthinking rage. It was so much stronger now. Sixteen. She'd been just sixteen. She was going to be married within a few years. Her father had been hunting around for her already. I could still see her, laughing and gossiping with the other girls in the Alienage after a day's hard work. She'd wanted to work a stand in the market. She'd wanted to be a mother. She'd wanted just once to wear a nice necklace. She'd wanted to be Shianni's bridesmaid. She'd wanted… she'd wanted _so many things_, really. She was supposed to get a lot of them. She'd been just sixteen. But then they killed her. They just killed her and dumped the body to the side like she was nothing. Like she hadn't been someone's daughter, friend, or love. Someone with hopes and dreams.

Thinking of that just made me angrier and the walls and floor of the Palace wept crimson from the bodies I left in my wake.

"Cousin, you sure you can keep calm for this?" Soris asked as we hit a door at the end of a one-way path. This was it. Had to be. If it wasn't, I was going to tear the place apart, likely.

"I am calm," I replied.

"You're berserking or something. It's scary."

"You can be calm and angry."

"Well, don't just go attacking, please. Lord Vaughan might just kill the girls."

"I know." So, instead of just breaking down the door like I had some of the others behind me, I just casually opened it and walked on through.

Inside, there were just three men. Three men and Shianni. The men were armed. They looked like they'd just put on their clothes or something. Lord Vaughan and two of his friends. They looked up and smirked as they saw me. "My, my," Lord Vaughan greeted with mock friendliness. "What do we… have… here?" His friendliness faded as he truly saw me. "You… you're covered in enough blood to fill a tub. What did you…?"

"A-Aiden," Shianni whimpered, reaching for me despite having her hands bound. Tears streamed down her face. There were signs of bruising. She was even bleeding, mostly from her mouth. What I noted most, though, was how… disheveled she looked. Just like… "Aiden, help…" I could put the pieces together. It was so easy. The smug looks on the humans, Shianni's condition, Lord Vaughn's _tastes_… I knew what happened, what I'd been just too slow to prevent. Shianni had been raped. Likely multiple times. Beaten and raped. My cousin. My precious cousin that I adored, that I protected, that I provided for.

I was going to _slaughter them_!

"You, I'm talking to you!" Lord Vaughan snapped, bringing my attention solely on him. "You killed all the guards, didn't you?"

"Perhaps I did," I answered coldly. "I beg your pardon, _milord_."

"Yes, that… puts us in a situation." I saw him shake slightly, even as he tried to appear calm and collected. "You are obviously skilled. Too skilled, really, for an elf." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Soris creeping slowly by the wall, edging for a door in the corner. Perhaps that was where the other girls were being kept. "We fight and perhaps you manage to win. But what would that give you?"

"There are many who would love to see you dead, milord." Just keep talking. Just keep calm. Let Soris confirm the girls were safe before…

"Perhaps. But that isn't my point." Soris was still moving. It didn't look like Lord Vaughan or his friends had caught on yet. "My point is that my death wouldn't be good news for your pigsty of a home. It will burn." Still moving. "However, you could turn and walk away, with forty soverigns added to your purse." He was at the door. "You take the money and run. No repercussions. Just freedom and money." Soris caught my eye and nodded, confirming the guess that the girls were in there. "What do you say?"

"I might agree to that, if you add one more thing," I replied evenly.

Well, didn't someone look relieved? "And what is that?"

I held the greatsword level with a certain part of his body. "I get to castrate you first."

And now he was just angry. "To the Void with you!"

"Sorry, milord, but I think you'll be seeing it first!" I swung, but he used a chair as a shield to ducked around and get his own sword. Longsword, with no dagger or shield. This would be interesting.

I ignored the others in the room to focus on Lord Vaughan. _He_ was the most trained, meaning that Soris was less likely to get a good hit on him, and _he_ was the reason this all happened. The other two, Soris could deal with. They would underestimate him. Me? Lord Vaughan wasn't underestimating me. No, not one bit. He kept his guard up and his feet light. I would move to strike and he'd either dodge or block the blow in advance. Neither of us really giving. Yells in the background. Yelps. Still, we kept up the stalemate. I had to be careful. If he got one good hit, I was gone. Oh, but if _I_ got one good hit in…!

He feinted to one side and surged forward. I nearly fell for the trick completely, only realizing halfway what was going on. I twisted and brought my arm up to keep his blade from hitting my chest. The sword bit into my arm, dragging up flesh and spewing up blood. But it did one more thing. "You are wide open, milord." I made sure a polite smile accompanied my words. "I am very sorry." I swung my sword back and up before slamming it down into his skull. It split instantly, cracking into pieces as the blade kept going through, all the way to his waist.

I jerked out the weapon and nearly slammed it into him again, but then I heard a whimper. I looked and saw it was Shianni. Soris was at the back corner, fiddling with a door. Everyone else in the room was dead. I knew he'd manage. "A-Aiden?" Shianni whispered, catching my attention again. "Aiden?"

"Yeah, it's me," I whispered back, dropping the sword and rushing to gather her in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay now, Shianni." Her wrists were still bound. I'd need to untie them. "It's over. They can't hurt you anymore."

"You promise?" She was trembling as she curled into my chest. "You _promise_?"

"Yes. There is no one left in the estate to hurt you. I killed them all."

"Like dogs?"

"Like monsters."

"Good." She started to sob. "Everything hurts."

"I know. I'm so sorry. But it'll be okay."

"Okay."

As she continued to shake and bawl, a hand gently touched my shoulder. I looked up to see it was Nessiara. She didn't look afraid, just sad and worried. "She volunteered to be first," she explained softly. I glanced around to see Soris helping the others girls out of the room. They, too, had been bound. "We heard the screams. Will she be okay?"

"With time, yes," I replied. "With time."

"I see." She smiled then. "Thank you, for coming to our rescue."

"Couldn't leave you all. Not like that."

"Still, thank you." She knelt down beside me, uncaring of the blood, and rubbed Shianni's back. "Please, let me help."

"Thank you."

* * *

Author's Note – All right, and we'll end it here! Ah, I love this origin (if we're looking at the origins unbiased, I think it's my favorite. But bias exist, so it's second to human noble [shut up, it was the first I played through and the first I beat the game with]). Anyway, meet Aiden, our warrior Berserker who wields a greatsword. At 21, he's actually going to be the oldest of the four Warden chars. Yes, I have Cyrion dead in this story. Sorry to those who like him. The main reason for this is because of how close Aiden is to Valendrian. Cyrion was never even mentioned in the first draft of this, so I opted to just… have him dead instead of awkwardly inserting him in. Oops. Anyway, for those who wonder why I picked warrior, it's because of the strength warriors have, to help contrast him with Cleon, who's more… speed and critical hits. Rogues.  
Bann Rodolf is mentioned by Cyrion when you save him as a City-Elf Warden as his employer. Shayda is mentioned in the tabletop RPG for dragon age, I think. Sarethia is mentioned only in a codex entry, as the 'writer' of the Alienage Culture, but she's the hahren for the Highever Alienage. As for 'Lady Elspeth'… congrats, you all now know the name of the female Cousland, the one who isn't a Warden. For those wondering about Adaia being saved by a human, play Leliana's Song DLC. (For reference, I am taking the events of Leliana's song as 'more canon' than what is stated in Origins [some things make a lot more sense and a reason why she might lie to the Warden in Origins is very, very easy to come up with], and that it was about three years ago.) For those wondering about Alarith, I didn't make up the backstory. According to the wiki, he is, indeed, an escaped slave. Voiced by Gideon Emery, aka Fenris. Nearly died of laughter when I found that out.

Next Chapter – The rest of the City Elf Origin, but from Cleon's POV instead.


	9. Chapter 9) Conscripted

**Chapter 8) Origin of the Silent Force – Conscription**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

"_Are you two all right?" I asked as I carefully approached the two elves. City elves, they were, and shaking like leaves. "I will stay my distance if it makes you feel better."_

"_P-please do," one replied, forcing herself to stand. Her companion remained on the ground where she was, checking her ripped clothes. "N-not that we aren't grateful for the help, of course! But-"_

"_It was scary. I'm scary. It's okay."_

"_Th-that and… ah… my brothers have told me h-horror st-stories. No offense meant, of course!"_

"_It's fine." I made sure to smile. "Are you okay?"_

"_N-no harm done, really." She smiled back shakily. "Scared. Maybe some bruises. You killed them before they did anything, though."_

"_I'm glad to hear that." The bandits deserved worse than I gave them. "Will you be returning to your home in the city?"_

"_Yes. Um… would you mind watching a bit longer, though? J-just until we get within sight?"_

"_Of course," I agreed. "No problem."_

"_Th-thank you so much!" Her smile brightened. "I'm… a bit confused as to why you helped us, though. I'd… heard the Dalish don't look kindly on us."_

"_From our perspective, you've lost your pride." She looked a little outraged, so I quickly added, "Whether you have or not is not my concern. You are still in need of help, regardless." Just because the City Elves had forgotten their histories didn't mean they weren't worthy of protecting. _

"_Oh." She laughed softly and helped her companion up at last. "Thank you."_

"_Of course. I do what I can."_

* * *

"There is another one, Cleon," Layla whispered to me. "Whose turn is it?"

"Yours, I think," I answered, carefully peering down from our hiding place. "Lone guard. Shouldn't be hard."

"That is correct." She brought up her hands and whispered something under her breath before releasing a small little wisp that meandered down to the guard.

"What is this?!" he yelped as the wisp bumped against his face. "H-hey, g-get away!" I was _incredibly_ amused that he was terrified by a simple ball of light. "Wah!" And off he ran, away from the door Aiden and his cousin, Soris, had used to get inside the building. Layla had called it a 'palace', but I just saw a mess of stone and wood. The outside gardens were nice, if I _had_ to give a compliment, but too structured. Not enough trees, either. I missed the aravels.

"How was that?" Layla asked me with a small, small smile as the guard disappeared.

"Beautiful," I complimented with a laugh, before noting something. "Look, there's Aiden and Soris in the glass again."

"That is a window," she corrected, even as she scrambled to peek through. Just as last two times, the two didn't stay in sight for long. Just long enough to slaughter a few guards and keep on running. The blood dripped down the walls as the bodies thumped out of sight. "Oh, that is brutal."

"They deserve worse."

"If we deliver worse to them, though, how are we better?" I opened my mouth to reply, but then closed it again. It _was_ a fair point. I wasn't sure if I necessarily agreed to it, considering how all 'normal' shemlen (the ones not raised in a Tower and weren't Wardens, that is) seemed to act the same when it came to elves. "…I believe I shall gain a minor fear of blood, at this rate."

"Why?"

"Do not get me wrong. In the tower, blood was common. Templars would accidentally hurt each other in practice. Mages would get into fights. But no one _died_ unless there was a… very, very unfortunate accident or from simple old age. Blood was just something to associate with injuries." She shuddered. "I have seen much blood now, with death. I do not like it."

"Death is a part of life. It's natural."

"Murder is natural?"

"How do you think you got meat to eat?"

"I…" She was turning paler by the second. "Oh, I feel ill now."

"It's okay." I patted her on the shoulder before noticing something. "Ah, another guard. My turn."

"Be careful," she whispered as I jumped down. I waved off the warning as I hid in the shadows and crept up on the unsuspecting guard. I waited for the perfect moment and then struck, choking him until he went limp and letting go as soon as he did. He flopped and I checked for a pulse. Layla had made me _promise_ to not kill if I didn't have to, and I was doing my best to keep it.

Content in that he was still alive, I stood up and waved to Layla. "See, easy and-" I suddenly stilled as I realized something. I couldn't move my left hand. I stared at it. Tried to get it to move. But it wouldn't. Just hung there at the end of my wrist, like a dead weight.

"Cleon?" Layla called. She sounded worried. "You okay?"

"I…" Finally, my hand moved. Slow. Oddly. But _moving_ which is what I needed to know. "Fine. I thought he was still moving."

"Well, was he?"

"No, just my imagination." I set about dragging him to the side, paying attention to my hand. It felt off still. What was…?

"Oh, Cleon!" I jerked my head up and saw why she'd called me immediately. The door had opened at last and out came the elves. Aiden, covered in blood, was first out, carrying a red-haired elf with help from his blonde bride.

"Everyone out?" I asked him.

"No," he growled. "They killed one. For being too loud or something."

A flash of anger went through me, but I made it cool. Judging by the blood, and the brief glimpses I'd caught of the fight, I doubted there were any filthy shemlen inside to kill anyway. "Can you all climb?"

"Maybe." He glanced back at the others filing out. Only Soris had any blood on him out of that little sub-group. "Why?"

"Our hiding place is up there." Layla helpfully leaned out and waved. "Good place to get your breath."

"I can also heal any of your wounds," Layla called down.

"Good, Shianni needs a healer," Aiden sighed. "Soris, you head up first to help the girls."

"O-okay," Soris replied. He was shaking, but I could see how there were bolts missing from his quiver. He'd fought too. "Okay."

"If you need to be sick, there's a out of the way corner," I whispered to him as I passed.

"Hasn't quite clicked yet, but if so, I'll take it." He smiled shakily. "Okay, where do we climb?"

"It's right over here." I showed him the set of vines and metal Layla and I had used to climb up. "Take your time."

Despite my words, it actually wasn't long before everyone was hiding. Aiden immediately shoved Shianni towards Layla. I frowned when I noticed Shianni's flinch, but she soon relaxed as Layla babbled about nonsense and smiled warmly. As she worked, I glanced around at the others. Most seemed fine, but I caught sight of something Aiden was trying to hide.

"Your arm is bleeding," I noted to him softly. "Poor job hiding it."

"I'd rather Shianni be looked at more," he mumbled. "It's not bad."

"Sounds like me when Lyna or Ta…" I couldn't say his name. It choked me. Ah, Tamlen, I'm so sorry… "I've bandages. Give me your arm."

"Thanks."

"No problem." He did as I asked and I went about bandaging him. The only sounds for a while were just Layla's babbling, the girls murmuring, and Soris awkwardly reassuring everyone.

I was surprised when Aiden spoke up again. "Back at the Alienage, you killed humans," he began.

"Yes, I did," I agreed, focusing on getting the bandages just right. It was a mostly surface wound. Messy, but healable. He'd likely scar from it, though.

"You did it easily."

"Yeah?"

"How?"

"Dalish kill shemlen who venture too close to the Clans for comfort. It's how we protect ourselves, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes, we let them go with a warning. Only for them to rally their fellows against us and force us to either kill more of them or move."

"I… see." He fell silent and I went back to focusing on the bandaging. My hand was fine now, it seemed. What had been that before, then? Had I twisted wrong somehow? Or… or was it a sign of the Taint in me growing stronger? Should I tell Duncan? Layla? Or should I hide it? …I'd probably keep quiet for now, truth be told. It could've been just a fluke, after all. I'd keep an eye on it, but otherwise…

As I finished bandaging Aiden's arm, I caught sight of Layla leaning forward to whisper something in Shianni's ear, too quiet for me to hear, and suddenly Shianni's whole face lit up in touched relief. "Thank you," she whispered to Layla. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

"It is no trouble," Layla dismissed with a smile. "You are clear for moving. Is there anyone else I should attend to?"

"No, Shianni was the only one truly hurt among us girls," Aiden's bride murmured. I believed her name was Nessiara. "Aiden? Soris?"

"We're both fine," Aiden dismissed, tugging his sleeve down to hide the bandage. I resisted the urge to role my eyes. "Does everyone have enough breath to run?" There were nods all around. "Okay. I'll be first down, if no one minds?" No protests. "Right then."

As they all began to climb down I turned my attention to Layla. "What was Shianni thanking you so quickly for?" I asked. "The healing?" She was silent for a minute. "Layla, you okay?"

"She was raped." Layla's words were soft. "There are some… physical signs that can show it. When I saw them, I used a spell to make sure she could not get pregnant from the… encounters." …Encounters? Plural? As in… Shemlen made me sick sometimes.

"How do you know a spell like that?" I tried to keep my tone light, joking.

"It is the one way the Circle is freer than the rest of the world." She laughed softly. Good. "Well, I am certain it depends on the Circle in question. In the Tower, most were sleeping with most, essentially. I never played those games, but, as a Spirit Healer, I was required to learn that spell, and, of course, the signs of assault."

"Required?"

"Rape and molestation are not uncommon in the Circles." She looked me right in the eye then. "I am not unfamiliar with what happens when one group of people is given total control of another group of people. What I do _not_ get…!" She covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. "What I do not get is why no one helped. What I do not get is why just being an elf means someone has power over you. I just do not understand it!"

I reached over to pull her into a hug. "Did you get help in the Circles?"

"Oh, I was never attacked like that. Knight-Commander Greagoir would have the head of any templar, and First Enchanter Irving would _make_ him listen to accusations." She leaned against my chest as she tried to calm down. "But the templars did learn to do such things in secret, because others would come to help the mage. If someone knows what is going on, someone _always_ helps."

"Sounds like mages know camaraderie better than most." Then again, they were literally trapped together. They almost had to. "You okay?"

"I am just horribly upset and confused. It is not as bad as when Jowan…" She trailed off. "No, I am sorry, but…"

"Let's go cover their backs," I suggested, ignoring the name. She, too, had things she couldn't speak of yet. "And get back to Duncan."

"Agreed."

* * *

When we got to the Alienage, Hahren Valendrian seized the group of city elves, fussing over them and asking for their health. He was… he was a very good hahren. Reminded me a lot of Hahren Paivel, though far less stern. It was easy to talk and confide in him, earlier when things were happy here.

Duncan waited for us nearby and beckoned us over to him. "How did your walk go?" he asked me with a small smile. "You missed the grand saving of the damsels in distress, I'm afraid."

"Such a shame," I retorted dryly. "But thanks for letting Layla come along. Kept me from doing something silly."

"We did some practicing as well," Layla chimed in. "I showed Cleon some ways a mage might distract a person and he showed me some physical ways to knock someone out in case of an ambush."

"I'm glad to see you sharing skills," Duncan laughed. "That will be important in the days to come." Right, because of the 'Blight'. …How would Layla stand _that_? "Regardless, there will be guards soon."

And, as if _waiting_ for someone to say that, they appeared. "Elder Valendrian!" one called, glaring at everything. He seemed to be in charge. "Elder Valendrian!"

"I am right here," Hahren Valendrian sighed, shoving the younger elves behind him. The group quickly forced Aiden and Soris down so that the guards wouldn't see the bloodstains. The Alienage was… more like the Clan than I would've thought. They guarded their own with everything they had. "What is it that you need?"

"You can't hide them!" Head Guard person sounded outraged. "You cannot! I will burn this Alienage if that's what needed to flush them out!" …Just like a shemlen to turn to fire. So many Clans had been chased away because the nearby shemlen had threatened to burn the forests where they stayed. "The Arl's son lies in a river of blood that spans the entire estate! The carrion birds are going to be sick from the number of bodies! Some of my _own guards_ are among the dead!" …He sounded most outraged by that last one. That was… strange. "Now, where are the criminals who-?!"

"I did it, ser," Aiden declared firmly before anyone could get one more word out. No fear. No hesitation. He stepped forward, out of the group that had tried to hide him and Soris, as if there was nothing to hide, no consequences to his actions. "Just me."

The Head Guard was silent for a moment. "I admire your courage to admit it, though I do not envy your fate," he whispered at last. "Guards!"

"Cleon, Layla, how well did he fight?" Duncan asked us quickly as the guards surrounded Aiden and his family protested.

"He only has one significant wound," Layla answered. Of _course_ she'd seen it. "I would imagine he is skilled, based on that."

"Saw him take down two guards with one swing through a window," I added. "He's unskilled, rough, but strong and talented, in my opinion."

"Good," Duncan replied. "Wish there was another way, but…" Another way to what? I wanted to ask that, but he'd already strode forward to address the guards directly. "Might I have a moment?"

"Oh, hello, Warden-Commander," the Head Guard greeted politely. "We have the situation under control and-"

"That was not a request, ser." Oh. Well, uh… That was authoritative. "Now, might I have a moment?"

"Commander Duncan is kind of scary right now," Layla whispered as the Head Guard nodded vigorously. "I knew he was strong, but…"

"First time we've seen him acting like he's in authority," I agreed. "Power can be scary."

"Yes, it can be."

"Thank you," Duncan replied to the Head Guard. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription. He is in _my_ custody as of this moment. You may take up the issue of his crimes with me at a later date." …_What_?

"Son of a tied down…!" the Head Guard growled. "Fine, but get him out of here."

"That is my intention, considering there is a Blight."

The guards grumbled as they stalked away. I just stared as I realized Duncan had _forced_ Aiden into coming with us. That… it made me ill.

"Duncan, did you have to…?" Hahren Valendrian began before shaking his head. "No, I know you. You did have to."

"I'm sorry, old friend," Duncan told Hahren Valendrian. "And I am sorry to you as well, Aiden." He turned his focus to the young city elf who seemed far too calm at being forced into a different path."But you will be leaving here with us. Grab what you need, say your goodbyes. Your life here is over."

"Very well, Master Duncan," Aiden replied politely. …Was he not the _least_ bit angry over what happened? "By your leave?"

"Yes, and take your time."

Layla went to Shianni again, likely to do another check up. Duncan stayed with Hahren Valendrian to talk. Me? I went after Aiden.

"Are you all right with this?" I asked him as I caught up. I was faster than him. "You were forced…"

"Master Duncan saved me from a fate far worse than death," he replied steadily. "At best, I would have been tortured before being killed. I knew that. So, I'm thankful he saved me." Well, yes, but… "I will miss the Alienage, and worry. I wish I could stay a bit longer, but that's impossible. Hiding me would make things worse."

"How are you so accepting?"

"…Anger leads to what happened inside the Estate."

"Great anger does. But what's wrong with a _little_ anger?"

"Everything." He gave me a look. "Anger leads to fear. Fear leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I refuse to take part."

"…" Okay, I could see where he was coming from. Sorta. But… "And hiding your strength?"

"…Strength leads to fear, too." He ducked his head. "Why are you asking me this?"

Because I thought he should be at least a _little_ miffed! Or was I just weird? "Just… checking."

"Very well, Cleon." He smiled slightly. "If I may?"

"Sorry to keep you."

He walked off and I leaned against one of the buildings of the Alienage, just not quite getting it. Why not be at least a _little_ angry? Why hide he was strong? Just… why?

* * *

After a while, Layla bounded up to my side and dragged me towards the gates to wait with her and Duncan. Hahren Valendrian had apparently left to grab something from his house to give Aiden, and Aiden's family had all raced to go say goodbye.

"I think they will all be just fine," Layla babbled as we walked. She kept a firm grip on my hand. She was probably still scared she'd be attacked for just being a shemlen, like before. Of course, if anyone tried, I'd probably punch them or something. Layla was kind and didn't deserve things like-

"Um… excuse me, miss?" Both of us stopped at the voice of a young girl. I vaguely recalled her from before. She'd been skipping around, proudly declaring herself the 'flower girl' for the… wedding that turned into a disaster. Well, at least she was smiling.

"Y-yes?" Layla replied. Her voice shook slightly, so I squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Here!" She handed Layla a few flowers. They were surprisingly bright and cheerful. "Thank you for helping us earlier, miss." Her smile was warm as Layla carefully took the small bouquet. "I'm sorry everyone tried to hurt you earlier. Elder Valendrian gave them all a _good_ scolding!"

"I… thank you." Layla smiled slightly and giggled. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome!" The girl laughed and curtseyed. "Safe travels. You'll keep an eye on Aiden, right?"

"Yes, I will."

"Okay!" She beamed and turned her attention to me. "Sorry, I don't have flowers for you, mister. The boys all said boys hate flowers."

"It's fine," I reassured. "The smile is enough."

"Then I'll make sure to keep smiling! You'll help Aiden too, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Thank you both very, very much!" She laughed again and ran off, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

"That was sweet," Layla whispered as we watched her go.

"That da'len has _good_ manners," I agreed. "I can show you how to press the flowers later, to preserve them."

"You can do that?" She sounded surprised. "Most of the time, we mages just cast a spell that encases the flowers to keep them."

"Wouldn't that block the scent or something?"

"I would not know. Flowers did not grow naturally at the Tower."

"I hope I never go there. No offense, but I think I'd go mad."

"Well, I nearly went mad in your forest, so I believe we are even!" That got a laugh out of both of us as we approached the gates. To my surprise, Aiden was already there, talking to Hahren Valendrian. Duncan looked up and smiled slightly when he saw us two wander up.

"All well?" he asked as we came to his side. "I was worried about Layla going on her own."

"No, I found Cleon quickly," Layla reassured. "Also, this sweet girl gave me flowers!" She held them out, smiling. "They are quite pretty, are they not?"

"They are." Duncan looked _very _relieved Layla hadn't been harassed. "And you, Cleon?"

"I'm fine," I replied, more automatic than anything. It was okay, though, because I _was_ feeling better.

Duncan gave me a searching look before replying, "Good."

"Valendrian, where did that knife come from?" I suddenly heard Aiden ask. I turned as saw Hahren Valendrian produce a very well-made knife. I frowned as I noted numerous similarities between it and the knives forged by our Dalish craftsmen. Was it… was it Elvish?

"This was your mother's," Hahren Valendrian stated as he handed the knife over. "She said it was passed down through her family and is called 'Fang of Fen'Harel'." _What_?

"Fang of who?" Aiden laughed. "Mother was always coming up with strange names."

"Fen'Harel, the dread wolf," I answered. Both of them jumped at my voice. Obviously, neither had expected an answer, especially not from the three eavesdroppers. "He is one of the Creators. Cunning and terrible. He is the reason why the Creators and the Forgotten Ones cannot walk among the People again. He is wary of dogs, though. That's a fun story." Merrill loved telling it, whenever we saw a dog in passing. "Your blade must come from the Dales." Just who _was_ his mother, then?

"Then I'd better take extra good care of it." He took the knife and slipped it into his pack. "Thank you, Valendrian."

"Take care, Aiden," Hahren Valendrian whispered. "Know that you will always have a home here."

"I will remember." With that he turned to face us. "I'm ready."

"Then we shall be off," Duncan murmured. No asking 'are you sure?' or anything, of course. There was no choice in this. "Until we meet again, Valendrian."

"I expect to see you soon, Duncan," Hahren Valendrian called. "With your recruits. I want another talk by the fire."

"I'll remember that!" He laughed, waving. Layla turned to curtsey and I bowed in respect to the Hahren who watched our departure.

Aiden didn't turn around. I wondered why, but decided against it. I doubted I'd get a satisfying answer anyway. "Where are we going?" he asked Duncan instead as we walked out of the gates into the 'market'.

"Highever," Duncan replied. Aiden looked startled, but Layla and I just exchanged a confused look. Neither of us knew the place. "Providing Cleon's health holds, that is." As Aiden frowned and Layla pouted, Duncan just glanced back with a knowing look.

Oh. Oh, he somehow knew of that paralysis. But I was fine now. I would continue to be fine. I wasn't going to die before getting to that Joining. I had a duty to live. For Merrill, for Lyna, for Ashalle, for the Clan. I _had_ to.

* * *

Author's note: Okay, with that, Aiden is officially on board! Fang is something you're _supposed_ to get after Unrest, but I moved it up here because it just fit better here.

Okay, put some foreshadowing here. This is the starting point of Cleon having trouble with the Taint, though, for plot reasons, it won't be _really_ bad until later. Never quite realized how both elf origins involve getting into the Wardens with basically no other options. Huh. That's fun.

Next Chapter – A traveling chapter with Layla


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